


Switched

by delusion_al



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Body Dysphoria, Bodyswap, F/M, Hatake Kakashi is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25146259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delusion_al/pseuds/delusion_al
Summary: Soulmates Switched bodies around midnight after they had both turned sixteen.It was a fairly common occurrence and yet Kakashi hadn’t been expecting it. He’d celebrated his own birthday three months ago, alone, in his apartment, with his dogs and, even though he might have naively entertained the idea of waking up somewhere else and written a crude note that he’d later destroyed detailing his location and how to get to school on time, nothing had happened.But now, he's woken up in the body of a girl he wants nothing to do with and her best friend hates him. There's no way this can get worse - until he Switches again, this time with said best friend.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi & Nohara Rin, Hatake Kakashi & Nohara Rin & Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi/Nohara Rin, Hatake Kakashi/Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito, Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Nohara Rin & Uchiha Obito, Nohara Rin/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 66
Kudos: 230





	1. カカリン

**Author's Note:**

> A soulmate AU featuring my OT3 from Naruto? Even though I haven't finished any of my VLD fics? Yes, please.

When Kakashi woke, he wasn’t in his own bedroom.

He didn’t realise this straight away, instead puzzling at the lack of alarm. Every day, without fail, his alarm woke him at 06:00, yet today, for some reason, all was quiet. He had already missed the sunrise if the cold grey light filtering in from between the curtains was anything to go by – meaning that the entire day was ruined.

He needed to see the newness of it to properly begin, to know that the sky wasn’t yet sick of its endless costume changes, and the extra hour of the morning to clean, to cook, to study, to _feng shui_ his mind.

Kakashi huffed into his pillow. Then paused. And huffed again, sniffing.

Was that – mint? The only mint shampoo he owned was for his dogs and he was sure he hadn’t accidentally washed his hair with that last night – but, hey, he was also sure he’d set his alarm and that hadn’t worked out either. Considering Pakkun hadn’t snuck into bed with him, it was the only option.

Or so he thought.

He was forced to immediately re-evaluate when he pushed himself onto his side and came face-to-face with a J-rock idol. Not the real deal, thankfully, but a poster that definitely shouldn’t have been right next to his bed.

His room didn’t have posters.

Kakashi balked and sat up so suddenly that the covers dropped off him. Now, he realised, this wasn’t his room. The formation was all wrong, from the colour scheme, all peach tones and purples, to the layout of the furniture. Where was his sink? His bookshelf?

The bed he was in was no futon either. Too elevated, taking up too much space. _A flowery duvet. Matching pyjamas._ Something soft tickled his bare shoulders and he flinched before he understood it was hair. _Shoulder-length hair._ He reached up and touched it gingerly, threading his fingers through sleek strands and holding them up in front of his eyes to see – _brown hair._

_Oh, no._

His grip on them tightened and he fell back against the mattress that wasn’t his own with a dejected thump, eyes tracing the assortment of band posters littering the walls – Hound Dog, Asian Kung-Fu Generation, Sambomaster, Stance Punks – it was embarrassing that he knew any of them, really.

This – his girlish, teenage surroundings, the absence of Pakkun and his alarm, the mint-scented hair – could only mean one thing. He had Switched.

  
  
カカリン

Soulmates Switched bodies around midnight after they both turned sixteen. It was a fairly common occurrence and yet Kakashi hadn’t been expecting it. He’d celebrated his own birthday three months ago, alone, in his apartment, with his dogs and, even though he might have naively entertained the idea of waking up somewhere else and written a crude note that he’d later destroyed detailing his location and how to get to school on time, nothing had happened.

It figured that his soulmate would be younger than him and he’d have to wait. The Switch couldn’t have happened at a more convenient time, really – halfway through the winter holidays, two days after Christmas – but he still wasn’t happy about it.

Yes, the girl was cute, as he’d discovered upon looking in a mirror. A few inches shorter than he was, with dusky brown eyes and a smile that might’ve warmed the world if he wasn’t the one behind it. It made his – _her_ – jaw clench. He feared what he would do to that smile, whether being bound to him would risk her losing it altogether.

The notion of this bond they now shared was both terrifying and infuriating. He was careful not to dig the nails of her fingers too hard into her palms – he didn’t want to leave a mark – but he couldn’t quite dispel the scowl on her face so easily. His own expression was usually so apathetic, but he found hers gave away too much what he was feeling inside. No guard whatsoever.

With her eyebrows pulled together like that and her mouth tugged into a frown, she looked very unlike herself. Which was stupid, because Kakashi didn’t even know this girl. This girl who was supposed to be his soulmate.

Why did nature determine that a person was only valuable when coupled with another? What about the intrinsic value of the individual? He didn’t want to measure his life in love, no matter what the songs or his father said. The death of his father’s soulmate was what had killed him, and Kakashi still couldn’t forgive the fact that he’d forsaken his son in favour of a dead bond.

He sighed, willing the girl’s features to relax. There was no point lingering on it, he supposed, pondering over how he would break her heart. He didn’t have the capacity to devote himself to anyone. It would only hurt them both in the end.

This first thing to do was find a phone and call his landline. They could arrange a place to meet so they could Switch back and get on with their lives. He turned away from the mirror, trying hard not to imagine what she’d look like when she cried.

カカリン

Her mobile was on her bedside table, but when he flipped it open, he found it was locked. Behind the empty box where he was supposed to input a passcode was a photo of the girl herself and a boy with dark, unruly hair. The sight of it surprised him.

_Her…boyfriend?_

“Hm,” Kakashi mused aloud, though it came out much softer and more high-pitched than it would’ve if he were himself. He’d heard of people dating before they’d Switched, but it was definitely the exception to the rule, and usually, it was the older of the two who experimented with other people. They were, after all, the ones who had liberty to do so and might do if they were waiting an extraordinary amount of time to meet their soulmate. Or if they were extremely impatient.

But this girl’s sixteenth birthday must have been today and, knowing this, she hadn’t wanted to wait? Or, she hadn’t expected a Switch today? Maybe she was just as disillusioned with the system as Kakashi and hadn’t wanted to comply with societal norms. She did like rock music after all.

Either that, or Kakashi was overthinking this and the boy in her background picture was just a friend. He had hoped that some sort of muscle memory would trigger her fingers to unlock her phone so he could find out, but he had no such luck, so he tossed it back onto the table.

Then he saw it: the notebook. Opened to a page entitled ‘`DEAR SOULMATE.`’

Ah, so she had been expecting him. He wasn’t above reading a girl’s diary, but it still felt a little wrong even though it was blatantly addressed to him. Her handwriting was very neat.

`Hello! My name is Rin Nohara and I turn sixteen today. If you are reading this, then that means we’ve Switched and you’re my soulmate! I live in Chiba Prefecture – I hope you are somewhere nearby.`

He was nearby actually, in Tokyo. It would only take an hour by train to reach home.

`It would be great if we could Switch back by the end of the day but, if not, don’t worry! My parents should be back from work later. They are doctors.`

Kakashi frowned. Her parents had missed her sixteenth birthday? They must be busy people. He supposed it wasn’t much different to his home situation, but at least he had the dogs.

`My best friend, Obito, will be coming over at 09:00. He’s a little disorganised and he hasn’t Switched yet, but he’s very sweet and he will take good care of you.`

There was an alarm clock on the bedside table that read 09:32. Either this Obito had already been and left, or he was incredibly late. Kakashi tried not to let that bother him. He hated tardiness.

`I really hope you are in Japan somewhere. It would make meeting up with you much easier, but I don’t mind travelling. In fact, that might make it more fun!`

To his confusion, the characters on the page abruptly changed from hiragana to Latin letters, starting with an English greeting that echoed what Rin had already written above in Japanese. He noticed then that she had transcribed her entire message into English and, upon skimming further down, Chinese also.

It was startling how serious she was about it all, to go to such lengths. Kakashi hadn’t even thought of that when he’d written his note all those months ago, just assuming that his soulmate would understand the gist of what was going on regardless of where they were from.

He was suddenly very thankful for his location. Being stuck on the other side of the world would have been an absolute nightmare.

Rin had been very thorough, drawing a small, simplistic map of the street she lived on with two dots depicting her own house and Obito’s – _ah, so they were neighbours._ She’d also included co-ordinates and even a reference for Google maps. Not that Kakashi could use it since he still didn’t know her passcode.

It didn’t matter. She must’ve had a landline he could use.

As he went to leave her bedroom, he stopped by a bundle of clothes draped far too purposefully over a chair. On top of them was a note: ‘`WEAR THESE.`’

Kakashi’s cheeks burned. How was he supposed to get undressed without it being wildly inappropriate? He was bound to see something he wasn’t supposed to. Rin hadn’t thought of that, had she? Even though she’d already laid out the outfit she supposed she would wear for their first meeting.

_Too innocent._

It was bad enough that Kakashi had seen her in her pyjamas. He rubbed the material between his thumb and forefinger absently – girls’ clothes were very soft. If only her mum were here to dress her for him. He could just close his eyes and let her do all the hard work, moving as and when needed. Women did that sort of stuff for each other, right?

But even the thought of that was slightly disturbing. Kakashi didn’t have a mum. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do.

How could Rin’s parents miss her sixteenth birthday? Doctors or not, they had to understand the significance of today. He realised too late his hand clenching tight around the hem of her tank top, creasing it with sweat, and that there was an incessant knocking at the door downstairs.

It couldn’t be – had she found her way to him already?

カカリン

Kakashi opened the door not to himself but to a round-faced boy with a bouquet of windswept flowers. He was breathing heavily, as though he’d been running.

“Happy birthday, Rin!” he said with a smile that stretched to the very edges of his cheeks. He was tall, taller than Kakashi, and tanned, his skin pockmarked with acne scars and sun blisters. A farmer’s son, maybe? The street behind him, though not rural and barely visible past his broad shoulders, seemed to suggest they were in an industrial district not far from the coast.

The boy cleared his throat and Kakashi knew he’d been staring for too long. At once he noted the unruly black hair he’d seen in a picture before. _Her…friend?_

“Obito?”

The question came out in a tone far too accusatory for the voice it was wrapped in, and the boy’s smile faltered. “Yeah?”

“You’re late.”

He didn’t mean to prioritise timing over his identity, but it was difficult to blurt out that he wasn’t who Obito thought he was when he was stood there with a _bouquet_. His eyes were drawn to it – those sad red roses nestled in their paper wrappings – and the sight stirred something within him.

“Well,” Obito stuttered. “You know how it is. I had to go to the pharmacy and then I ran into Mr. Yamanaka and he needed help weeding his garden – but he gave me these!”

He thrust the roses in front of him, rather too abruptly – to the point that a few petals detached from their stems and fell to litter the doorway. Kakashi had only opened the door halfway, blocking the opening with his leg in a manner that was customary for anybody who owned a pack of dogs. Rin’s family, he’d discovered, didn’t have any pets so it looked less like he was barring anything from scampering out and more like he was barring anyone from barging in.

“Gave?”

Kakashi eyed the bouquet sceptically. He could tell just by looking at them that the flowers were store-bought, even if Obito didn’t want to admit it. _He bought them for Rin._ The arm he reached out with to take them was thin and feminine, entirely not his own – realised almost too late that a gift like this ought to be accepted properly and moved from his spot behind the door to take them with both hands.

Obito yelped and dropped the bouquet before Kakashi could take it.

“Rin!” he cried, slapping his hand over his eyes. “You’re not dressed!”

_Oh._ So much for preserving her dignity. Not that her pyjamas were _that_ bad – Kakashi found himself frowning, wondering what was so egregious about a girl in a tank top and shorts. He could only put it down to them being country bumpkins and the current winter climate.

“Relax,” he chided, bending down to gather the scattered flowers. “It’s not a crime for a woman to dress like this. And it’s not like you’re a child, you know.”

He dreaded to think what this guy would think of the girls in Harajuku. Kakashi had been the same, once, before he’d moved to the city and stopped giving a damn about appearances.

“What?” Obito choked. His voice was muffled by his hands, still clasped firmly across his face, the faint remnants of a blush seeping through his fingers. “You’re acting so weird right now! What’s wrong with you?”

Rin had described Obito as her ‘best friend,’ but the flowers Kakashi now held and that blush told a different story. The navigation of this situation might be a little bit trickier than he had initially thought, even trickier than the logistics of getting dressed without exposing himself – herself? – whatever. That now seemed so trivial.

“You should probably come in,” Kakashi said. “I’m going to need your help.”

Obito spread his fingers out enough that a dark eye could peek through. “Help? With what? Did you hit your head or something?”

“No. It’s just – ah, how do I explain this?” Kakashi sighed heavily and, clutching the bouquet close to his – _Rin’s_ – chest, offered a hasty, half-assed bow. “Thank you for the flowers, but I’m not Rin Nohara. My name is Kakashi Hatake and I believe I am your friend’s soulmate.”

カカリン

Obito definitely hated him.

After angrily berating Kakashi for not revealing himself sooner and fumbling over the fact that he’d given flowers to another guy, he’d been sulking in silence at the dining room table. Rin’s house was small – much like his own apartment – with the kitchen, dining room and lounge condensed into one room. There was nowhere to escape.

What’s worse was that Kakashi didn’t know where anything was supposed to be. He’d spent the past five minutes searching for somewhere to put the flowers, half in-vain, in an attempt to stall further conversation and allow the situation to sink in. For Obito’s sake.

He was hungry too, but he didn’t like the thought of cooking here or going through Rin’s food. It wouldn’t have been polite.

“Rin’s mum keeps the crockery in the second cupboard from the left,” Obito said sullenly. “If you’re looking for a vase, that is.”

His tone was irritating. But, more irritating, was how easily he fit into the furniture, like the missing part of a jigsaw in which Kakashi didn’t belong. He could tell just from looking at how Obito had breezed through the front door, kicked off his shoes and started making tea that this was practically his second home. The floorboards were engraved with his presence, the chairs and futons made for him.

Meanwhile, all Kakashi could do was tip-toe around for fear of upsetting the dust, as much an alien to this house as he was to Rin’s body.

“Flowers are a thoughtless present,” he muttered, mindlessly running his fingers along each rose stem.

“Excuse me?”

“They wilt and die so quickly.” Careless, he accidentally pricked Rin’s fingertip on the point of a thorn. “By the time she gets here, Rin might not even be able to appreciate their beauty.”

The sharp sound of chair legs scraping against a wooden floor scrubbed through the room as Obito leapt to his feet. “Shut up! Just who do you think you are anyway?”

“I already introduced myself,” Kakashi responded coolly. “Unless you forgot.”

A snort. “As if, Hatake.”

“Didn’t Rin tell you this was going to happen? She said in her note that you are her best friend. Surely you would have known that this was a possibility.”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to look Obito in the eye just yet, so he opted to stare out of the window towards the rear garden instead, feeling the heat of a glare on his back.

“Um, well – yeah, of course she mentioned it,” Obito mumbled thickly, as though something was trapped in his throat. “And she told me to be mindful of it today since I was coming over. But I didn’t think…it would actually happen.”

At that, Kakashi wheeled around. “Why not?” Then, he paused, eyes widening. “Are you…crying?”

Obito hadn’t yet sat down, choosing instead to perch on the edge of the table with his arms crossed loosely over his chest. Though they were slung there limp and dejected, the tendons of his forearms were taut. It was a striking profile, or at least it would have been if not for the wetness under his eyes.

“No!” he spluttered, swiping at his cheeks angrily. “I have – it’s a medical condition.”

_Bullshit._ Nonetheless, there was vial of eyedrops on the table. He opted not to press the issue. It was probably the first time he’d been tactful in his life – but _really_ there were more urgent matters. Like getting back into his own body. “Do you know the passcode to Rin’s phone?”

“Huh? What do you need that for?”

“To access her phone?” He did really try to keep the incredulity out of his voice, but it was difficult when faced with such a stupid question with such an obvious answer.

Obito, meanwhile, looked scandalised. “What’s the matter with you? Why would you need to go through a girl’s phone? Are you some sort of pervert?”

Kakashi almost slapped himself in the face. God, give him _strength_. “No! I just need to call myself – or Rin – herself? – whatever! – so we can meet up. Any phone will do.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Obito grumbled. “The landline’s over here –”

He was interrupted mid-step by a very forceful ' _wakatten’da_ _yo_ ' and an ensuing guitar chord – the volume of which made Kakashi flinch. It was emanating from Obito’s trouser pocket. He, at least, had the presence of mind to be embarassed, fumbling with the offending item – his own mobile – whose ringtone was now singing about something to do with a rainbow.

“It’s so loud,” Kakashi complained, wondering whether it was actually that bad or whether the awkward atmosphere made it so. “Why do you have your ringtone as a trashy boyband single?”

Obito didn’t respond. He was glaring uncertainly down at his screen, which was cracked, at some unknown +81 number. Kakashi might’ve chanced a better look if it didn’t mean getting closer to him, when he already seemed uncomfortable at his state of ‘undress.’

“Aren’t you going to answer?” he offered. Obito shot him a narrowed look, then swiped over the green button.

“Hello?” A long paused. His face fell. “Rin?”

Kakashi couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the line very well, aside from the low buzz of someone speaking, but the mention of her name was enough to pique his attention. Obito just kind of stood there dumbly, listening to the hum prattle on for a few seconds.

“Is it Rin?” Kakashi asked. He didn’t receive a verbal reply, only a brief nod and a wrinkled nose. “Can I speak to her?”

Obito then ignored him, turning his body so that Kakashi was faced with his shoulder. “Yeah,” he affirmed to whatever Rin had just said over the phone, a hard look in his eye. “Oh? Well, he’s here. I guess so, yeah.”

“Oi! What’s she saying? At least put her on speaker.”

“No, he’s not,” Obito continued. “He’s really rude actually.”

A twist of rage within him, and Kakashi moved without thinking. Normally, for all his skill in martial arts, he would be able to throw another person to the ground like it was nothing – so long as they weren’t as skilled as he was – but Rin’s body was smaller and weaker than his, and all he managed in the end was to dislodge Obito’s phone from his grip with a poorly timed, poorly executed grab that, in his overcompensation for Rin’s height, struck much too high.

It dropped to the floor with a thud.

“Ow!” Obito exclaimed because Kakashi had basically just slapped him in the face. Like most normal people who had been assaulted, he then floundered and Kakashi, completely unused to this girl’s body narrowly missed an elbow to the cheek. It struck his – _Rin’s_ – eye instead, and Obito gasped. “Rin! I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

It was a momentary blunder. Kakashi took full advantage of it.

One basic foot sweep later, and they were both on the ground, Kakashi in Rin’s body looming over Obito in a horrifyingly compromising position. It was a miracle neither of them had hit the table. He could hardly see out of his eye.

“I’m not Rin,” Kakashi reminded him from where he was sat half-straddling his stomach. His – _Rin’s_ – eye burned, and he knew from experience it would bruise later. The image made him bristle. “Thanks for giving her a black eye though. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“What?” Obito was fast turning red and Kakashi really, really didn’t care to know what was going on in his head right now, so he ignored the sight of the boy gaping beneath him in favour of grabbing his mobile. The call was still active. “But you – you – _Hatake!_ That was your fault!”

“Hello?” Kakashi mumbled into the receiver. “Is this Rin Nohara? It’s me, Kakashi Hatake.”

He was greeted by his own voice, usually so deadpan, practically squealing with delight. “Oh, hello! I’m so excited to speak to you! It’s a little bit odd hearing our own voices though, isn’t it? I’m calling on your landline. What happened just now? I was speaking to Obito, but the line suddenly cut out.”

“He dropped the phone,” Kakashi explained and it wasn’t entirely a lie. “He’s very clumsy.”

Obito started wriggling beneath him, but he locked his – _Rin’s_ – knees tighter, squeezing his – _her_ – thighs around his midriff to keep him still.

“Oh, I know!” Rin exclaimed between giggles, and he winced at the tone of his own voice. “He was probably late too, knowing him. I hope he hasn’t given you too much trouble. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was? I couldn’t catch it the first time. I was trying to find your wallet or some form of ID, but I couldn’t concentrate with all the dogs!”

Ah, the dogs. “Are they alright? Have they been fed?”

“I’ve given them some treats?”

He almost sighed. “You’ll need to change their water and their food. I would ask you to do more, like redressing Uhei’s paw and cleaning out Bull’s folds or maybe even taking them for a walk, but it’s probably best if you wait until we Switch.”

“Oh, um, okay!”

“Their food is in the cupboard next to the fridge, below the sink. I’d prefer if it you didn’t poke around too much, but my wallet should on the counter. Please don’t read any of my books.”

He could sense that she was moving around in his home, trying to locate things amidst the impatient whines of his pets. They were probably wondering why it was taking him so long to feed them, even if they did appreciate the treats. Meanwhile, Obito was pushing himself up.

“Get – off me!” he hissed, flexing his body enough that Kakashi slid backwards onto the floor. He tumbled with enough velocity to roll back onto his – _Rin’s_ – ass and then further onto his – _her_ – back. He yelped at the impact.

“What was that?” Rin asked, oblivious. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Kakashi lied easily, aiming a kick towards Obito, who was now furiously grabbing for his mobile, trying (and failing) to ignore the fact that Rin’s top had ridden up to expose her stomach. “I’m not used to moving around in your body.”

“It is difficult,” Rin agreed. “But your house is very neat so there’s nothing to trip over.”

“Apartment,” he corrected. “It’s a studio apartment in Tokyo.”

The mess of limbs that constituted Obito and Kakashi-as-Rin wrestling for possession of the phone subdued slightly as Obito backed off, clearly intrigued by that small bite of information.

“Tokyo?” he mouthed from where he was gripping Rin’s ankle to stop Kakashi from kicking him silly.

“Tokyo?” Rin echoed over the line. “That explains the noise outside. I’ve never been to Tokyo before.”

“Right,” Kakashi sighed. “I’m going to call a family friend to come and pick you up.”

“You don’t have to –”

“Help yourself to any of the food,” he continued. “But wash up after yourself if you do. He’ll be there soon. It would probably be best if we met somewhere near the train station in Chiyoda. Would that work for you?”

“Yes! That’s perfect!” She sounded elated, even though it required a slightly longer journey home on her part.

“Okay. Great. In that case, I’ll see you later.”

"Wait!”

He paused. “What is it?”

“Um, don’t you want to talk for a bit? Get to know each other before we meet? This is all happening so fast.”

Maybe, that would’ve been the more appropriate thing to do – to exchange pleasantries and discussions of their upbringings and how they took their tea and the fact that they were fated to meet even though their meeting were taking place through a shitty phone receiver and it was hardly romantic at all.

“Not really,” Kakashi replied honestly, but the words tasted as bitter as they sounded coming from the mouth of another. “Sorry, I have a lot to do.”

“O – okay.”

The last thing he said before he hung up was: “And, by the way, my name is Kakashi Hatake.”

カカリン

The family friend was, of course, Minato. His father’s god-son and, by that logic, his older brother and the only reason he wasn’t currently living in an institution with a hundred or so other orphans. After Obito had found his feet, he’d promptly stormed out into the garden, leaving his phone with Kakashi – which he took as an invitation for him to use it again, if only quickly.

Minato picked up after the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Minato-nii,” Kakashi greeted, remembering too late that he sounded like a girl. He wiped his fingers tenderly across the swollen skin beneath his eye and sighed.

“Who is this?”

“Sorry, it’s me. Kakashi. I’ve Switched.”

It took a while for the information to register. He could tell, because Minato was completely quiet – enough that he could hear everything that was happening in the background. Plates crashing, a woman shrieking, a toddler howling. Domestic bliss.

Then, Minato cheered. “What!? Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes?”

“Oh, this is fantastic!” His next words came as though they were spoken from a distance, and Kakashi knew he were leaning away from the receiver. “Kushina! Great news! Come over here!”

He heard Minato’s soulmate and wife’s response from where she was no doubt wrestling with their son, Naruto. “Who is it?”

“It’s Kakashi-chan! He’s Switched!”

Some slight hesitation and another cheer accompanied by a screaming baby. _Great_. If he had wanted this much pomp and circumstance, he would have called Guy instead.

“Kakashi-chan!” Kushina breathed into the line, her mouth so close to the receiver that it crackled. Kakashi winced. “Is it true? Who is it? What’re they like? Oh, we’re so happy for you! Congratulations!”

“Ah – hello, Kushina-nee.”

She suddenly squealed and he was so glad he couldn’t see their faces right now. “It’s a _girl_. I’ve always wanted a little sister! Hey, hey, is she cute?”

“I don’t – urgh,” Kakashi groaned. “I’m not – sure?”

“Who am I kidding?” Kushina drawled. “Of course she’s cute! If she’s your soulmate, Kakashi-chan, then she must be as adorable as you!”

_Okay, that’s embarrassing_. He was now secretly very glad that he didn’t have them on speaker, even if Obito wasn’t currently in the room. There was no telling what he’d overhear.

“Come on, Kushina,” Minato chided. “Leave him alone.” He heard some muffled movement as the other receiver changed hands. “What’s going on then, Kakashi-chan? Do you need me to pick you up?”

“If that’s not too much trouble.”

He was always thankful for Minato’s pragmatism, and even his ability to read his mind when they weren’t even in the same room. It didn’t take long to flesh out the plan, in between Kushina begging him to bring Rin to dinner sometime after he’d divulged her name. Minato would take the underground to his apartment, take Rin-as-Kakashi to the central station, they’d Switch and that would be that.

Now it was just up to Kakashi to map out the most efficient route across Tokyo Bay. He’d need to catch a train, or maybe even the ferry. For that he’d need money – Rin’s money, probably. He frowned. Maybe he could ask Obito –

The back door edged open and Obito stepped in. His eyes looked suspiciously wet.

“Yo,” Kakashi saluted. “Are you done?”

Obito shot him a dubious look. “Done with what?”

“Sulking.”

“I wasn’t sulking!”

“Sure.”

He most definitely had been sulking. Or crying. Or both. Either one of the three. It was hysterical, but he knew better than to laugh outwardly. It would have been too savage.

“What did Rin say?” Obito asked and Kakashi noted that he wasn’t looking directly at him. _That angry, huh._

“I’m meeting her in Tokyo, so I need you to lend me some money.”

“What?”

“I can pay you back. I’ll just give Rin some money to get back to you once I’m in my own body.”

But Obito didn’t seem nearly as bothered about the money as whatever else he was conjuring up in his head. “No way,” he countered. “No, no, no. You’re not going to Tokyo!”

“But…I live there?”

“Why can’t Rin – or _you_ – come here?”

Kakashi huffed, now impatient. “Because we’ve already planned it. Besides, you live in the middle of nowhere – how long would I have to wait to catch a train to go home? I need to get back to my dogs.”

A bit of a lame excuse, but not entirely unfounded. Obito had crossed his arms again, his jaw set. Kakashi had to wonder how a girl like Rin – _not that he knew Rin_ – had ever gotten lumped with him. “Fine,” he muttered eventually, and it sounded too much like he was giving consent for something he didn’t have power over anyway. “But I’m coming with you and I’ll need to let my grandma know.”

“Why?”

“Because!” Obito growled. “How do I know Rin will even come back if I let you go? You might kidnap her and trap her in your creepy little studio apartment or something.”

“It’s not creepy,” Kakashi hissed.

“Oh, yeah? Why do you even live in a studio apartment? How old are you?”

His licked his lips, keeping his tone deadpan. “Fifty.”

Obito gagged. “ _What!?_ ”

“I’m kidding. I turned sixteen in September.”

“You’d better be kidding!”

“What’s your problem?” Kakashi challenged. “It’s not like I want to be here! I wasn’t prepared for this.”

“Neither was I!”

“You knew it was a possibility.”

“It’s different!” Obito snapped. “I just wanted to spend some time with Rin on her birthday but instead you’re here and now I’ve elbowed her in the face and given her a black eye! Have you looked at yourself?”

He hadn’t, but it probably wasn’t a great sight. He had no doubt this would make for an interesting story. He just hoped it wouldn’t hurt Rin as much as it currently hurt him. “Look, it’s fine. You didn’t elbow Rin in the face, you elbowed me. If anything, it’s my fault – _even though you should have given me the phone in the first place_.”

“Whatever.”

“Could you just get me something to stop the swelling?”

For the first time since they’d met half an hour ago, Obito actually did something he requested and fetched him an unopened pack of peas from the freezer. He was in the midst of handing them over when he did something completely unexpected. Before Kakashi could react, Obito’s free hand had moved up to the side of his face, the side where the skin of Rin’s eyelid was purpling.

His fingers traced under her jaw and he could feel that he chewed his nails, before embedding themselves in the hair behind Rin’s ear, thumb lightly massaging the tender, pink skin beneath her eye. It was a woefully intimate gesture, one that Kakashi had never given or received, and he leaned unconsciously into Obito’s palm. The skin Obito caressed wasn’t his own but he was the one who felt it and saw, through wide, dusky brown eyes the confliction on his face.

“Rin is my best friend,” Obito said. “If you do anything to hurt her ever again, mark my words: I will kill you.”

カカリン

The dysphoria was starting to set in. It started with going to the toilet, an exercise he never wanted to repeat as a girl every again and led to Kakashi standing over Rin’s chosen outfit while holding a bag of frozen peas to his eye with a feeling of absolute helplessness. It’s not like he could go outside and catch a train in what she was currently wearing – it was far too cold – but the thought of undressing and redressing her body was a bit too much.

The whole soulmate system, though not really a system, enveloped that idea of empathy; that you couldn’t really know a person until you’d lived a day in their life. Only, it didn’t quite work like that. Because Kakashi wasn’t a girl and Kakashi wasn’t Rin and he didn’t want to wear clothes that were for girls or for Rin.

One look in her bedside mirror shattered his exquisitely constructed sense of self. Namely because, today, at least, he was Rin and Rin was a girl. She had laid out clothes that she wanted him to wear for their first meeting and, even though he wanted nothing more than to run into her parents’ room and steal an oversized shirt of her father’s, it was his duty to make sure she was as comfortable as he was uncomfortable wearing her very own clothes.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t do it alone.

“Help me get dressed.”

“What!?”

With all the murderous intent gone, Obito was back to his usual, stupid self, sitting on the stairs and waiting for Kakashi to change.

“What’s the problem?” Kakashi drawled, knowing full well what the problem was. “You and Rin are best friends. I’m sure you’ve seen it all before.”

“I haven’t!” Obito protested loudly, his cheeks a particularly violent shade of pink. “And I – I couldn’t…”

“Do you think she’d rather it was me or you that saw her naked?”

Kakashi was so happy he’d never had a crush. It reassured him that he’d never looked as dumb as Obito did right now, performing mental acrobatics in his head. “I don’t know…you – you’re her soulmate!”

“I suppose you’re right. Well, cover your eyes.” It was a bluff, obviously, and it worked wonders.

“Wait!” Obito yelped. “No! I – I can’t let you! You’re a creep and you don’t know her so…I’m going to blindfold you.”

“I’m already half-blind at this point,” Kakashi grumbled, gesturing to the make-shift icepack that was rendering half of his face numb. “Also, that won’t work unless _you_ dress me.”

“Then I’ll blindfold myself too.”

At once he envisioned the monstrosity that would follow – entangled limbs and groping in places that hadn’t existed for Kakashi before today and the inevitable psychological scarring that would follow. He gulped.

“No, you won’t. We need two eyes for this.”

Obito mulled this over for moment. Meanwhile, Kakashi wondered if Rin owned a trench coat big enough to cover her entire body and her extremities.

“I’ve got it!” the other boy exclaimed. “I’ll only cover one of my eyes. Then we’ll each only see half as much.”

_Wow, big brain time._ “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Ever.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No.”

“Well, then, just shut up and don’t peek.”

カカリン

One traumatic experience and a quick stop at Obito’s grandma’s later and they were on the train.

It was noon and the industrial suburbs of slid by through the window between chunks of ocean and Tokyo’s skyline on the other side of the bay. Obito had stopped glaring at him and the peas had melted into a cold mush that leaked condensation down the sleeve of Rin’s jacket – and, honestly, Kakashi had never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life.

His outfit consisted off a black V-neck, the ones that girls wore to expose their collarbones and nothing else, a high-waisted skirt, stockings, and a winter coat that was twice as fashionable as it was functional. It looked good on Rin in the same way that most clothes looked good on good-looking girls, but it felt _horrible_ on Kakashi.

The stockings were the worst.

There was no traction to keep them in place, so they kept slipping down. Each time Kakashi leaned over to pull them up, he would feel the smooth skin of Rin’s thigh and endure the double-shockwave of both touching a girl’s leg and being touched on the leg _at the same time_.

Coupled with the fact that nothing was where it was supposed to be in relation to everything else and it made for a nauseating experience.

“Obito,” Kakashi ventured to the boy sitting opposite him, leaning his chin on his palm as he watched the waves go by. “Did you bring any water?”

He was met with a head shake and a pointed comment: “You really ought to speak more politely to me, Hatake. We don’t know each other.”

True, Kakashi had been using informal diction since they’d met. But that didn’t bother him. He shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t even know your name. You never introduced yourself to me.”

A rightful accusation, one that clearly put Obito’s boxers in a twist. “Call me Uchiha,” he snarled.

“Okay, _uchiwa_ -san,” Kakashi chuckled, fanning the fingers of his palm out in front of him with a smirk. Rin’s hands were very small. “I’m older than you so, if anything, you should be the one speaking politely to me.”

“How would you know?”

“Rin told me you hadn’t Switched yet.”

That fact alone didn’t necessarily confirm his point, but Obito didn’t argue so he must have been correct. He was scowling. “Don’t call her that. She’s just Nohara to you.”

“I don’t think so. We’re soulmates, after all.”

He thought back to the handful of people he knew of who’d Switched. Asuma and Kurenai, classmates of his, blessed to have known each other long before they discovered they were soulmates. They’d always been friendly to each other – but from familiarity, not the bond they shared.

Minato and Kushina. The epitome of a perfect bond. They’d been inseparable for as long as Kakashi could remember, even though he must’ve known Minato before Kushina. He would have been six when they met. He wondered if they’d been as miserable as he was in that time before, tracing the lines of Rin’s palm with her fingertips.

But he couldn’t imagine either of them so different to as they were now, so bright and light and _happy_. If happiness like that existed, damn it, why couldn’t he reach it?

He thought of his mother and father. And decided: “I’m not going to date Rin.”

“What?” Obito choked.

“I’m not interested in dating at the moment,” Kakashi explained. He wasn’t lying even though it felt wrong to admit it.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not really interested in dating in the future either.”

Obito looked to go through all five stages of grief at once. Denial, in how he fiddled with his ear lobes as though he’d heard wrong. Anger, in the flash of indignation in his eyes like the idea that someone wouldn’t want to date Rin was a gross insult: “But you’re Rin’s soulmate! Why wouldn’t you want to be her boyfriend?”

“It’s nothing against Rin. It’s not her, it’s me. Besides, I thought you’d be happy.”

He was bargaining with it now, the notion of Rin’s singularity bouncing around the inside of his skull like a promise. “Why would I be happy about that?”

“Oh, please,” Kakashi scoffed. “It’s obvious that you like her.”

Depression, in the exposure of his secret. “No! I don’t – it’s not like that!”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” In the reflection of the train window, he could just make out Rin’s face staring back at him as he himself observed the encroaching skyline of Tokyo. Her expression screamed disapproval. She revealed too much of his inner turmoil. “Just, take care of her for me, okay?”

Finally, acceptance: “Thank you.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” Kakashi snapped. “Like you said, I don’t even know you. I’m doing it for Rin.”

カカリン

Living in the heart of Tokyo was quite like living in the mountains – in the midst of so many people, you hardly saw anyone. It was a place you could quite happily exist alone and self-contained. Kakashi found it lonelier than woodland house he’d shared with his father.

A trillion souls in their bedrooms, high in the cliffs of windows. He thought of what was beneath it all – the electricity cables, steam, water, fire, subway trains and lava in the city’s guts, the subterranean rumbling of train and earthquakes.

They were standing in front of the train station and Kakashi was markedly not smiling at the way Obito admired the high-rise buildings encasing them with equal parts wonderment and awe. The central square bustled with bodies. It was just the two of them and about a thousand other people around them.

Kakashi-as-Rin standing with legs locked together and pulling the hem of his skirt lower, and Obito marvelling the vertical world was how Minato found them.

He was impossible to miss, a blonde in a sea of brunettes, beside him, Rin-as-Kakashi, running towards them. The sight was like a punch in the gut.

It wasn’t that she was running when usually all Kakashi could manage was a quick walk, or that she was wearing his favourite jacket despite not knowing that it could have been his favourite jacket. Not even that they had brought Kakashi’s _entire dog pack_ with them, each held on separate leashes and scrambling against the tarmac for purchase as they chased after who they thought was their owner.

It was that he saw himself smiling.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled like that, let alone seen himself smile like that. He didn’t look at himself in mirrors often.

God, what was this girl doing to him?

“Kakashi!” she called. She stopped about two meters from him and looked him up and down with those greys that were usually so dull and Kakashi felt like he was looking at a ghost. “Sorry. It’s okay for me to call you that, right?”

Obito was the first to respond, eyeballing Kakashi’s real body with of surprise and contempt. “Rin? Is that you?”

“Obito!” Rin exclaimed, noticing him for the first time. “You’re here too?”

“Y – yeah, of course!” he sputtered. “Huh, Hatake, you’re so short – shorter than me.”

“Oi,” Kakashi warned. “Uh, yeah, you can call me by my first name if you want, Rin.”

His dogs were sniffing curiously at his feet and hands, gorging themselves on Rin’s scent. Minato was keeping his distance for the moment, fiddling with his phone. Probably messaging Kushina.

“Your brother’s really nice, Kakashi,” Rin said, following Kakashi’s gaze with her own. “He made me breakfast this morning and then we took the dogs on a walk and decided to bring them here. There’s so many! I’ve been trying hard to remember all their names. Ah – sorry, I’m rambling. It’s just so strange talking to myself and meeting you for the first time!”

All Kakashi could manage was a meek, “yeah.” His mouth had probably never moved so much in one day before, not since he was a kid. Obito, who had been sizing his body up still, was now staring at Minato.

“That’s your brother?” he asked, frowned. “He looks nothing like you.”

“We’re not related,” Kakashi said. “Minato-nii! What are you doing?”

“Sorry!” Minato exclaimed. Bull was pulling on his leash, which he’d wrapped around his wrist. “Kushina wanted me to get a picture of your first meeting!”

Kakashi slapped a hand over his face, although all he would achieve by doing so by obscuring Rin’s face from the photo that would follow. “Oh, no. I _hate_ pictures.”

“Come on – it’s not that bad,” Rin pressed. He couldn’t decide whether he liked the way she made him sound or not. “Huh? Hey, what happened to your – _my_ – face.”

_Fuck._ He wasn’t one for inward swearing, but this was one time that definitely called for it. Kakashi glared through his fingers at Obito, who was in turn staring at some singular point on the ground whilst wiping ‘dust’ from his eyes.

It was the first in the succession of stills that Minato managed to capture. The second was Rin grabbing Kakashi’s hand to pry it away from his face – though the photo made it look like their roles were reversed.

The skin-on-skin contact was enough to initiate their Switch back into their own bodies, marked by the third still and the one that Kakashi framed on his bedside table: Rin, now as Rin, with her black eye smiling widely, at home in her own body with an open-mouthed grin on her face, clutching Kakashi’s hand tightly so he couldn’t pull it away, the remnants of her joy still etched on his face – Obito in the background, red-faced and rubbing his eyes, accompanied by a handful of rabid dogs jumping and yapping excitedly.

It didn’t matter what he’d said before whether he wanted to date Rin or not. Her smile he had entrusted to Obito, and to Rin he silently entrusted Obito’s, but his own he entrusted to himself. Even if he might never experience it again, it was enough for him that the proof of its existence remained in that photograph.

Kakashi went home that afternoon with all his dogs, a new number in his phone, and an idea. He would break Rin’s heart for her sake, for Obito’s, and for himself – so that he knew that his last smile was hers.


	2. オビリン

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chap 2 is here!!  
> thank u so much to all of u who've read, commented, left kudos - everything! it means so much to me and really motivates me to keep going. i loooooooved reading all of your feedback and have tried to respond to every single one
> 
> hope u enjoy <3

`**to: 080-000-9720 09/02**  
` `good morning kkshi! work hard today ~ (*^^*)  
_seen 07:03_  
`

`**  
to: 080-000-9720 09/02**  
lunch time! i'm having saury & eggplant, your favourite ♡  
i hope you are eating well ~~~  
_seen 12:48_`

`**  
to: 080-000-9720 09/02**  
obito missed school again today (‘A`)  
i want to visit him later but i'm so busy...  
have fun at judo practice!! let me know when your next match is, i want to watch! o(^o^)o  
_seen 16:34_ `

`**  
to: 080-000-9720 09/02**  
whew ~ just got home, so tired - time to study hard!!  
how was your day? have you eaten yet? don't forget りょ!!!  
_seen 18:39_`

`**  
to: 080-000-9720 09/02**  
off to bed (-_-)zzz  
goodnight kkshi!! speak to you tomorrow ~   
` `sleep well ♡♡♡  
_seen 22:41_`

オビリン

Soulmates were supposed to love each other.

There was no discourse on the matter, aside from the scholarly articles written by professors with too much time on their hands on the psychology of Switching, inter-cognitive transitions, and the like. Rin’s parents had been over the biological effects too many times for her to count, divulging in research on how those with different blood types, phenotypes, genotypes reacted, the disruption of REM sleep patterns.

For two people who were literally made for one another, who were linked – once, in body, forever in mind – it didn’t make sense for them to not fall in love. Or, at least, that was what she’d thought. 

In the two months that had passed since her Switch, she had started to doubt what made sense and what didn’t. Kakashi was one of the things that didn’t.

She loved him beyond reason for someone she had only met once, spoken on the phone to a handful of times, and spent hours planning the rest of their lives together from the sanctity of her bedroom. But with each passing day and each missed call, the seeds of doubt were sprouted and festered.

Why hadn’t he asked her to be his girlfriend yet? She had to wonder what he was waiting for – they were meant to be, weren’t they? They’d lived half a day in each other’s shoes, and they texted all the time. Well, Rin texted all the time. Kakashi hardly ever responded. As much as she wanted to blame his coldness on upcoming exams, she feared the problem went deeper than that.

Even though soulmates were supposed to love each other, Kakashi didn’t love her.

オビリン

“You’ll have to be patient with him,” Minato had said to her. It was the day of her Switch and he’d just arrived to pick her up from the apartment. “He’s not the type to talk about how he’s feeling or express much in the way of affection. It takes him a while to warm up to people.”

Kakashi’s apartment was immaculate in that she feared one wrong move would leave a stain forever. All contained into one single studio, he kept a bookshelf overflowing with paperbacks and trophies, a small yet pristine kitchen, and a lounge in which he slept on an unrolled futon.

If it were an ecosystem, she was a virus and his dogs were antibodies, poised for attack. They sniffled around her bare feet, whining, panting, slurping with their tongues. It tickled. She flinched and giggled without thought, and Minato dropped a plate from where he was fixing them breakfast.

It smashed on the tiles and Kakashi’s greyhound skittered away.

“Ah!” he gasped. “Sorry. You just surprised me.”

“It’s okay!” Rin said quickly, cringing at the way Kakashi’s voice sounded coming from herself. It sounded far too abrupt, as though he was a person who never said anything without thought – pensive, boyish, slightly nasal. The way his mouth moved inhibited speech, like he’d spent his entire life trying to muffle himself lest too much slip out. “Here, let me help you.”

Moving in his body was equally as jarring. His slight frame and the strength of his lower back left no room for unnecessary movement or strain. Each step she took felt like it ought to be methodical but, with Rin behind the wheel, his legs felt awkward and heavy.

“No, it’s fine!” Minato yelped and she stumbled to an awkward halt. “You’re not wearing any shoes! Wouldn’t want you to cut your feet – or, uh, Kakashi’s feet.”

“Oh, right.” She hadn’t thought of that.

She hadn’t thought of a lot of things. She seated herself back on the edge of his futon. She was still wearing his pyjamas, black layered on black, covering his whole body from head to toe. He matched the monochrome of his home – all whites and greys. It was a small studio, barely big enough for one person let alone all his dogs. Why did he have so many dogs anyway?

“I haven’t heard Kakashi laugh like that in a long time,” Minato said. Rin hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped moving, bracing his hands on either side of the sink as though he were holding his whole body up. She couldn’t see his face from the angle, but she imagined the strain across his features.

“What?”

“Sorry – it’s – when you laughed just now,” he continued. “It sounded so genuine. I can’t remember the last time Kakashi laughed like that.”

Rin frowned. True, he hadn’t seemed particularly enthusiastic on the phone earlier – but with the way Minato was talking, it sounded as through Kakashi didn’t have a soul. She had so many questions – decided to start with, “why doesn’t he laugh?”

Minato shrugged, then turned to regard her with a sad smile. “I guess he doesn’t find anything fun anymore.” There was a beat between them where he seemed to realise what he’d just said and his face fell. He picked it back up again and rearranged it into something less melancholy. “But what do I know? He’s a moody teenager. Now, how do you like your eggs?”

オビリン

Minato had been so very apologetic, in a manner that Rin wasn’t accustomed to seeing in grown-ups. Her parents would never have been so accommodating if they had time to spare. She couldn’t imagine them treating Kakashi as kindly as Minato had treated her. Thank goodness for Obito.

The thought of him made her scowl.

He hadn’t been in the school for a while, nor had he been answering her calls. She’d even been to his house but each time she visited nobody was home. It seemed impractical for him and his grandma to have gone on holiday now of all times and he hadn’t mentioned anything to her before. Final exams were approaching, and she knew Obito couldn’t afford to fail. His grades were sub-par anyway.

Not to mention it was his birthday tomorrow.

The gift she’d knitted for him lay folded on top of a stack of papers, a red woollen scarf. She’d meant to give it to him in school, but his absence hadn’t allowed it. Beside it lay another of a similar design, but a different colour – deep bottle green, for Kakashi. He wore too much grey. She’d only meant to buy one spool of yarn but the store she’d visited had a sale, so she _had_ to get two. One for each of her boys.

Maybe she could take the initiative, frame the present with a confession of her own? Or would that be too presumptuous?

Rin sighed and leaned back in her chair. God, it was _impossible_ to do maths with all these worries swirling through her head. She glanced at the time: almost midnight – too late to run over to Obito’s and give his scarf to him now unless she shoved it through the letterbox.

Ah, but then it would crease.

She wondered vaguely if he was still awake and reached for her phone. No reply from Kakashi of course. Nothing from Obito either – now that she looked through their messages, the last time they’d spoken was almost a week ago.

`**to: 080-001-0886 05/02  
**hey, why weren't you in school today? are u okay?（・∩・）  
i can come over later and catch you up on what we missed  
_read 16:21  
  
  
_` `**from: 080-001-0886 05/02**  
i'm fine  
don't come over  
  
  
**to: 080-001-0886** 05/02  
what's the matter? are u sick? ((´д｀))  
_read 16:30_  
  
  
**from: 080-001-0886 05/02**  
no  
don't worry about it  
  
  
**to: 080-001-0886** 05/02  
hm u're acting weird ಠ_ರೃ  
is it because u're stressing about ur switch?  
it will be fine!! if it happens it happens  
and u won't even feel a thing~  
_read 16:43_` `` `` ``

`` ``

He hadn’t responded after that.

What was wrong with boys nowadays? Kakashi she could understand – but Obito never acted like this. He’d been funny ever since Christmas. It made her want to press her pillow to her face and scream. Speaking of pillows…

She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. She was alone in the house tonight, her parents having taken the night shift. Her current schedule required her to stay up until at least one, but the call of her bed was so enticing.

Rin slapped herself in the face with both of her hands.

_Focus. Study. Maths._

Quadratic formulae to be specific. Should be easy – for someone who was actually awake. As she stared down at the page, twiddling her fingers, her eyes began to droop ever so slightly, vision fading to a non-descript blur. Numbers and lines merged into a singular whirlpool of ink and equations, siphoning into the centre of her textbook.

By the time the clock struck twelve, she was gone.

オビリン

“Why does Kakashi live by himself?”

Minato choked on his coffee. She’d thought in between him making her breakfast, directing her through Kakashi’s wardrobe and going through the names of each of his dogs they’d built up something of a rapport, enough to ask some of the more serious questions, but she guessed not. She’d layered a jumper and some joggers over his pyjamas, flustering herself silly over the prospect of allowing Kakashi’s older brother to undress his body or seeing anything she wasn’t supposed to.

It had hit her upon brushing his teeth that they looked nothing alike. Minato was Western, even if he didn’t sound it, with his blonde hair and blue eyes, but Kakashi was an enigma. White hair. Pale, mole-speckled skin. Grey eyes. He was beautiful.

They couldn’t have been related – probably why they didn’t live together. But that didn’t much answer her question.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said, wincing. The spaniel, Guruko, whose ears she was currently playing with whined.

“No, it’s okay,” Minato replied coolly. He had put his mug down to leash Bull, the mastiff waiting patiently at his feet, the biggest of the dogs. Kakashi had said not to walk to dogs without him but she figured Minato knew what he was doing. “It’s understandable that you’d have questions – I’m just not sure I’m the right person to answer them.”

Rin bit back a scowl. “I see.”

“He hasn’t always lived in Tokyo,” he explained. “He comes from the same village as me. He moved here for school.”

She’d heard of students who did that, those whose parents had a lot of money or who were clever enough to get scholarships. She couldn’t imagine leaving home so young. 

“He lived with me for a bit when he was in middle school,” Minato continued. “But I’d just gotten married and after my wife had our son it all got a bit hectic – so he moved out here. Of course, I’m not too far away and he has a lot of friends around here too, even if he doesn’t seem like the most sociable guy.”

He was rambling. She imagined it was a habit of his, maybe because he felt a little bit awkward in her presence, but she hung on the edge of every word he said, eager to learn as much as she could. Each new thing he said opened up new questions: what were his friends like? What was his school like? Was he a genius? The trophies seemed to say so.

“Oh dear,” Minato suddenly exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Nohara-san. I always talk too much – Kushina would have told me to shut up a while ago.”

“Please, call me Rin!” she insisted, half-squawking at the propriety. It was bizarre to have an adult treat her with such respect. “Or ‘chan’ or ‘kun’ or something. I’m not good with formalities.”

Minato was fixing her the strangest of looks. She flushed, feeling as though she’d said something foolish. “It’s so odd,” he said finally. “You’re really nothing alike, you and Kakashi.”

She gulped. She supposed it must have been strange to witness someone he knew so well acting nothing like themselves at all. Not that she ever would have noticed. “We’re not?”

He shook his head, but he was smiling. “It’s not a bad thing. My wife and I aren’t much alike either – when you eventually meet her, you’ll see what I mean.”

Rin swelled at the prospect in a way that felt like it would make the heart inside its foreign chest burst, as though Kakashi’s body barely had the capacity to contain all her emotions at once.

“Oh,” Minato added. “And if we’re skipping the formalities, you’ll have to call me big brother from now on!”

She giggled and this time he didn’t flinch. “Okay, Minato-nii.”

オビリン

Rin woke up almost as soon as she passed out, slouched over herself sitting on hard wet ground. There was a chill in the air and the sound of waves, smooth, rippling, and she wondered if she’d walked all the way to the seashore in some study-induced sleepwalk. Or if she were dreaming.

It was an odd thing to dream about, the ocean, when she lived just a stone’s throw away from it. She couldn’t help but judge her subconscious for such a poor choice in environment and also for the odd sense of lucidity – she could move just fine and her mind was surprisingly un-clouded, but each movement felt heavy and awkward, and her eyes felt so damn bleary and wet.

She reached up to rub them, to rub away the sleep, perhaps rouse herself back to her bedroom where it was warm…but all she did was punch something sharp and pointed into her cheek. Her fingers fumbled clumsily around the object, trapping it fiercely in a palm that felt entirely too big.

It was all jagged metal wires tangled into a shape that vaguely resembled… _a pair of glasses?_

Rin dropped them immediately and scrambled backwards, frantic. She rubbed her eyes again – god, they felt horribly itchy. Had she gotten saltwater in them or something? How did something like that even happen? They stung like crazy.

She blinked rapidly, squinting through the pain. The world was a mixture of grainy black and navy, blotted with orange – streetlamps, maybe? But why couldn’t she _see_?

She huffed against the cool night air and grabbed the glasses, holding them up experimentally. When she peered through the glass, which was tinted dark, she world emerged clear. Before her stretched a body of water, deep and brooding, framed by a shingle of forest and rock. Beyond flickered a smudge of light that may have been a town or even a city. Could it be Tokyo? Could she be looking across Tokyo Bay?

This wasn’t right.

Why was she outside? Where had the glasses come from? Why did need them? This had to be a dream. A very vivid, very realistic dream. She sat for a minute or two, drawing deep breaths, contemplating the sound of the waves lapping the shore, what she was supposed to do in a lucid dream. Did this mean she could fly? Or breathe underwater? Rin didn’t really want to find out. She wasn’t wholly convinced at this point.

She heard a voice on the wind. Somewhere behind her, somewhere above. When she turned, she saw there was an embankment, into which a set of stone steps had been carved. It didn’t seem familiar. And up on the embankment, some sort of waving torchlight.

She couldn’t yet hear what the voice was saying, only that it was calling for somebody. A lost dog, maybe? As it grew nearer, she began to understand.

“Obito!” it screamed, and it was a woman. “Obito!”

Rin barely had a chance to react before there was silhouette on the hilltop and the light was trained onto her at the bottom, almost as if it had known that she’d be there.

“There you are!” the woman exclaimed in a groan of relief. “What were you thinking, running off like that? Don’t you know how worried we’ve been?”

Rin had no idea what she was talking about. The light prevented her from making out any features, though she sounded vaguely familiar. All she could manage was a meek, “what?” as she stumbled to her feet.

Then, she flinched. Her voice had _cracked._ She sounded…so weird. She felt her eyes grow wide and her breath hitch.

The woman didn’t seem to notice. “Obito, honestly,” she muttered. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

 _Obito? But Obito is…_ it wasn’t a very common name. “I’m not –” Rin started, and faltered once again at the timbre of the voice that came out of her lips, the way that it cracked.

“Oh, Obi-chan.”

The woman was encroaching rapidly now, down the hillside, holding up the hem of her skirt. She wasn’t young, neither was she old – somewhere around Minato’s age maybe, with long dark hair and dark eyes. The torchlight flickered off as she drew closer and, to Rin’s surprise, she stretched out her arms and pulled her into a rough hug.

She stood there as this stranger hugged her, half-dazed, half-confused. She was a very short woman, whose head only just came up to her nose. Rin stared down at her hands, hanging loose by her sides; they were large and tanned and calloused, nothing like her own.

“It must be so hard for you,” the woman said into her shoulder. “I’ll miss her terribly too. I’m so sorry.”

Some form of horror was dawning on her. Rin gently pulled away, reluctant to participate in this moment of intimacy any longer than she had to. Not for her sake, but for this poor lady who must’ve gotten something mixed up – she _must’ve_. “I’m sorry, miss,” she stammered, her voice heavy and thick and entirely not hers. “I think you have the wrong person.”

The woman stepped back. In the lowlight, Rin barely made out the crumple of her brows. “What are you talking about?”

She gulped. She was shaking now, on the verge of tears maybe, or on the verge of sanity. “I’m not – I’m not who you think I am.”

Realisation hit like an ocean wave rising. The woman raised a hand to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “Don’t tell me that – oh, Obito! You’ve Switched.”

オビリン

She was called Mikoto and she was Obito’s aunt, a woman whom Rin had no doubt met before when she was younger. And after some preliminary questions she’d found out that yes, Mikoto’s nephew was the exact same person as Rin’s best friend. She couldn’t decide if she was happy or sad, or if she should be feeling anything at all.

She was her best friend’s soulmate. But she herself already _had_ a soulmate. It didn’t make any sense.

Mikoto’s home was made in the old, traditional Japanese style, one of a small village that housed an entire community of family members. A family Obito had never spoken about before. None of them were awake, apparently, but the bedrooms were far enough away from the kitchen that they could talk without waking her husband or her two young sons. She watched from where she had settled on a tatami mat inside the swollen bottle flies buzzing on the veranda outside, enticed by the soft orange glow of the streetlamps, while Mikoto made tea.

The garden and everything beyond held the world within a windless moment. The stillness put everything to sleep and all was distilled into clean simplicity. Compared to Rin’s restless spirit, it all felt too calm.

“I had a feeling this would happen,” Mikoto hummed, sliding a cup of green tea across the table. “Considering it’s his birthday today. What’s even more surprising is that you already know each other! Either way, this must be quite a shock for you.”

Yes, it was. Her fingers felt numb, cupping the hot drink close to her chest, nursing it like a bruise. When she opened her mouth to speak, the words she meant to say died in her throat. All that filled the silence was the sound of the grill and the rice cooker.

“You must be hungry.” She wasn’t. “I know that Obito can eat enough to feed an army, even though he’s been so sullen lately. But this whole situation will probably cheer him up a bit.”

Rin mulled over that for a second, sipping her tea. “What do you mean?” she finally asked.

Obito’s voice sounded less strained this time – she knew he was always so emotional, even if he liked to hide it with his ‘allergies’ or his ‘medical problems.’ However, with these itchy eyes, she reckoned she ought to stop teasing him about his drops. She did have to wonder what he was doing out in front of the water so late at night though, why he hadn’t been answering her calls, and why he’d come to visit his aunt. It explained why he hadn’t been at school but what was he doing here?

Mikoto chuckled and threw a knowing look over her shoulder. “You don’t know already? Ah, my nephew’s always so hopeless when it comes to romance. I can remember you two when you were just little kids – so cute! And he’d always want to hold your hand.”

Rin smiled a bit at that. He _was_ very clingy. “I know,” she agreed. “He used to get so dirty pulling up all the flowers from Granny’s garden. But half the time he’d give me weeds, not flowers.”

They both laughed, and it put Rin’s nerves at ease, at least for the moment. It felt good to reminisce.

“Oh, Granny,” Mikoto murmured to herself. She then sniffed, very gently. “It’s been so hard on Obito.”

“What has?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Rin put her cup down. “Didn’t tell me what?”

Mikoto wheeled around, biting her lower lip. “My mum – Granny – she’d been ill for some time. She deteriorated rapidly and well…”

Her ears were ringing. No wonder he hadn’t wanted her around the house. No wonder he hadn’t been in school. God, she was so _stupid_. “I didn’t know.” A pause. “She’s in hospital now, at least?”

Mikoto’s eyes shone, wet. “No, Rin. I’m sorry, but she died last week. She’s gone.”

オビリン

Kakashi and Minato both came from an agricultural village in rural Japan that grew rice and caught fish and raised hunting dogs. Minato explained as much when they were out in Tokyo. He held Bull’s leash and Pakkun, who had grown tired, in his arms, while Rin kept the others, three leads in each hand.

“His dad was my godfather,” he explained and, _right, makes sense_. _Hence, they’re brothers._ She didn’t miss his use of the past tense. “When I left school, I moved here with Kushina for work. She’s from Awaji Island.”

Sakumo Hatake started up a kind of sanctuary for rescue dogs alongside his main job, which was farming. It didn’t bring a lot of money into the household. He was a good man, apparently, even if the arable community didn’t always think so. Kakashi was his only son. Minato didn’t mention his mother.

“Pakkun here’s the oldest,” he went on, hoisting the pug further up into his arms. It seemed to grumble in annoyance. “He’s such a grumpy little grandpa. The others are a bit younger, pups from earlier litters and all that.”

“And Kakashi raised them all by himself?”

“Pretty much. He’s was too soft to take any of them to the shelter, even when Kushina lost her temper over it. Most animals don’t seem to get along with her. Except, weirdly enough, foxes? We have a family that visit our garden every spring.”

And he was rambling again – Minato definitely liked talking about his wife and their kid. A toddler now, whose name was Naruto, like the fishcake.

Bit by bit, Rin pieced together a picture made up not of what he told her, but rather of what he didn’t. She commissioned a canvas of black from his omissions, in which Kakashi was parentless and cared for his father’s disregarded dogs. What had happened to his parents she didn’t know, but she didn’t dare to ask.

“Cake!” Minato suddenly yelled making her jump.

“Huh?” she stuttered, bemused. He was staring straight ahead, at a little artisan café, fitted artfully into the nook of the commercial district.

“Cake,” he repeated. “A day like this calls for cake!”

“Oh. Um, I don’t have any money…”

Minato huffed. “Come on, Rin-chan, this is my treat. It’s your birthday, after all.”

With all the fuss, she’d almost forgotten. Turning sixteen felt so much less important than her Switch.

“I suppose,” she drawled. “If you’re paying, Minato-nii, it can’t hurt.”

He stopped for a second and she thought maybe she’d overstepped her bounds, been a bit too cheeky. But then he barked with laugher and ushered her onwards, the dogs baying in response. “You and Kakashi have more in common than I thought! Come on, birthday girl. We have some time before his train arrives.”

オビリン

She was too shocked to cry outright. Not that it would have felt right in front of Obito’s aunt, who was also grieving and probably had more right to the feeling. Instead, Rin just kind of shut off for a while, listened to Mikoto talk, then let her show her to her bedroom. _Obito’s bedroom._

It was small, dainty, minimalistic, closed off from the world by a sliding wall behind which silhouettes moved. Rin could see as much as she could hear Mikoto talking to her husband in hushed tones.

The body of water she’d mistaken for the sea was actually a lake. They were in a difference prefecture, a day’s drive from home, amongst forest and woodland and mountains. No salt, no sea, no nothing. Obito was to move here permanently – he would be moving school in time for the start of next semester. He couldn’t live alone, even if his family could afford to rent him an apartment somewhere. He was too messy and his grades weren’t good enough to get him into any of the elite schools, like Kakashi, so what was the point?

Rin would probably rarely see him, if ever.

Before she even realised, she was on her knees. The matt beneath them was smooth and warm. She could scarcely believe it. _Obito? I Switched with Obito? Even after I Switched with Kakashi?_ She hadn’t told Mikoto about that. It was too complicated. It didn’t make sense.

But sure enough, sprawled across the floor were all of Obito’s things. His backpack with the faulty zip, hanging open – all his comics on the floor. He dog-eared the pages. His bedsheet, crumpled, unmade, suspiciously stained. Socks, clothes, laundry strewn about the place. Entangled headphones. They’d spent hours sitting in this room – well, not this room _exactly_ , but something just like it – listening to rock and doing homework and eating melon pieces Granny had meticulously sliced for them.

_Oh, Granny._

Rin stifled her heart, the way it sunk at the thought. Kept herself busy with untangling those headphones. Obito’s fingers were thick and clumsy, so unlike her own. She found herself pulling to harshly, dropping the wires too many times. His phone was attached, barely charged, its screen cracked, glowing bright on a picture of the two of them together.

Seeing it was like a punch in the throat.

That really was her and Obito. She really was in his body. They really were _soulmates_.

His hands trembled as she entered his passcode. He’d never changed it. In the camera app she could see not herself but him. Black hair, uncombed, and tanned, pockmarked skin. God, he looked so tired. And upset. She was chewing the inside of his cheek, sucking the boyish fat out of his face. When she stopped, he did too, a perfect mirror. His eyes were watering and she vaguely noticed that they stung.

She went to his messages. The last thing he’d opened was from her. He’d typed something into the text box below, a draft. Unfinished and unsent.

`**to: 080-001-0885** 09/02  
i don't want to switch, rin  
i'm in love with you  
i always have been  
_drafts (unsent)_`

She started crying then. It was silent apart from the sharp suckling of breath through her teeth. _I have to call him._ It was a ridiculous time for a phonecall, almost two in the morning, but she couldn’t help herself. What did that even _mean_? Was he crazy? Telling her something like that when she already had a soulmate.

 _Not_ a _soulmate. Two._

He wasn’t picking up.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid boy,” she muttered to herself. She hoped he was asleep and not just ignoring her.

Not one to wallow, she tried a different number, one she’d memorised two months ago. Sat backwards, biting Obito’s already-chewed thumbnail and waited. He picked up after the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Kakashi,” she started, failing to keep the bitterness out of her voice. So, he could pick up for an unknown number at a time like this but not for her? The cheek of it. “It’s me. Rin.”

A beat. “Um. What?”

“I’ve Switched. Again. With Obito.”

It felt like a confession of adultery. The guilt of her unwitting transgression threatened to consume her from the inside out. She wondered in the seconds that followed where nothing was said if Kakashi would even care.

“Very funny, Uchiha-san,” he said, apathetic. Of course he didn’t.

“No!” she hissed. “This isn’t a joke!”

“Switching more than once is impossible,” he spat back. “You might want to check your facts before playing a stupid prank like this.”

Oh, fucking _strewth._ What was wrong with boys? “No, Kakashi,” Rin insisted. “It’s not a prank.”

He sighed. “Obito, it’s two in the morning. This is ridiculous. I’ve already told you I’m never going to date Rin and I don’t believe in soulmates so there’s really no need for this fake Switching nonsense. I’m going to hang up now.”

She almost let him. She was surprised enough that when she tried to speak nothing would come out – until the threat of statement nearly rang true. She practically screamed. “ _Kakashi!_ I swear, if you hang up on me now then, _God help me_ , I will come to your apartment right this second and cut your balls off in your sleep. This is _not_ Obito – I am telling you, we’ve Switched!”

Rin was never one for shouting. She was hardly the most threatening of people, barely reaching five foot. And Obito’s voice was uncharacteristically whiny for a sixteen-year-old. But there must’ve been something in the way that she said it that made Kakashi hold the line.

There was the faintest of crackles, a modicum of hesitation. Then, “…Rin?”

She let loose the breath she’d been holding. “Yes. Yes, it’s me, Rin.”

He spoke very slowly. “You’ve Switched with Obito?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you already Switched with me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. And you’ve called me and not him because…?”

She’d thought the answer was obvious. “Because you’re my soulmate? And I’m currently in Shiga Prefecture – or, well, Obito is, and he won’t pick up the phone and he’s drafted a really weird text last night and it’s going to take me ages to get home and I don’t know what to do.”

“Slow down. What are you – is _he_ – doing out there?”

Rin huffed. “It’s a long story. I don’t want to talk about it right now. Could you, just, do me a favour and go check on him at some point tomorrow? Please?”

“He’s at your house, right?”

“He should be.” She sniffed. “That’s the last place my body was.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” Kakashi said. The whole thing felt like a transaction, less of a conversation between people who were supposed to be in love or the supplication of a favour, and more of a business deal. “What did you say about the weird text he drafted?”

Rin blanched. “It said that he’s in love with me…but that can’t be right, can it? We’ve been friends for so long, it’s impossible.”

She was expecting Kakashi to laugh as though it were all some big joke, but all he could say, ever so softly, was “oh.”

“It’s silly, isn’t it?” she pressed, eyes overflowing and irritated, desperate for some verbal confirmation. The way that Obito’s voice cracked as she spoke broke her heart.

“Listen,” Kakashi said. “I think you need to speak to him about it.”

“What does that mean?” Rin half-choked. “He didn’t…did he tell you anything about it, Kakashi?”

“No. He didn’t need to. It was fairly obvious from the beginning.”

 _Obvious?_ She was crying a little harder now, her sorrow reflected back at herself tenfold in the sound of Obito’s sobs. “What do you mean?” she repeated. Then, something new registered. “What did you mean when you said you’d never date me? That you don’t believe in soulmates? Is that true, Kakashi?”

He didn’t answer.

“Well,” she insisted, impatient. Her heart felt like a bruise. “Is it true?”

“Yes.” He sounded very small. “I’m sorry. I don’t…”

“You don’t what?” The silence of the line, this room, this house, was deafening. Rin’s voice reduced to something barely above a whisper, the dread and horror blending into something she reckoned she’d known all along. “You don’t love me, Kakashi. Do you?”

Her only answer was the dial tone.

オビリン

It was past sunrise when Rin finally managed to stop crying.

What had started as a trickle ended with a multitude of waves, saltwater tears licking the sides of Obito’s face like it was their shoreline. Each hitch of breath, each sob rumbled through his chest like rolling thunder and brought with it more grief. Grief for him, the way his body shook as she made it cry; grief for his grandma, grief for herself, grief for Kakashi, grief for the two of them together.

With the greening of the February morning came a drizzle of rain. There was no window in Obito’s bedroom, but she could hear it through the screen and once she’d finally mustered up the strength to move, she slid open the door to the springtime garden outside. She gulped up the sight, dizzy from her tears, and sat for a while.

The Uchiha’s garden was lovely, complete with a river and rain chain that jingled in time with the water splashing down. The sound was enough to mask how the bedroom door had been unlatched and opened.

“Nii-san?”

Rin jumped and turned around. Behind her was a boy, one of Mikoto’s sons she presumed, dressed still in his pyjamas, with long black hair and dark eyes. Bare-footed, he stepped forward hesitantly, presenting a small dropper tool filled with a clear fluid.

“I heard you crying again last night,” he said. “Which means that your eyes must’ve been hurting. You left this in the bathroom.”

It was Obito’s eye drops. Truth be told, his eyes did feel remarkably itchy. Maybe he really did have hayfever or something. “Thank you,” she said, accepting it as gracefully as his clumsy hands would allow. “But I’m not –”

She caught herself. Did this boy know about soulmates? Would he understand if she told him?

“Mum said you’re not feeling very well,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his top. “So, we’re going on a road-trip to Granny’s to make you feel better again.”

“But that’ll take all day,” Rin murmured. “Don’t you have school?”

The boy blinked at her as though she’d said something dumb and shook his head. _Right, school holidays._ “She also said you should come and have some breakfast because we’ll be leaving soon.”

She expected him to leave then but, before he did, he rushed forwards to hug her. With the way she was kneeling, he fit right into place against her chest and it took some time to register that he wasn’t really hugging her, but Obito. She didn’t have any younger siblings, or even younger cousins, so it was entirely unfamiliar – but also pleasant.

“I know you miss Granny,” he whispered. “I miss her too and so does Mum. It will get better, I promise.” 

オビリン

She learned that the boy’s name was Itachi and that he was seven years old. He had a younger brother called Sasuke, a toddler who whinged and cried a lot but was otherwise incredibly cute. Rin couldn’t imagine why Obito had never spoken about them before, especially given how highly Itachi thought of him.

He probably found them annoying – he never had been soft on kids, only the elderly. Rin was lucky that she liked both.

“You’re very clever, you know that?” she said to Itachi in the car as he showed her what he was reading in the back seat. It seemed to be well above his reading age.

“He’s always been very good at school,” Mikoto confirmed from where she was driving in the front seat. Rin had insisted that she didn’t need to drive her all the way back home, that she could just get the train from Kyoto and everything would be fine, but Mikoto wouldn’t hear of it. She claimed they could just stay over at Granny’s and have a little spring holiday – they still had some things to clear out anyway.

“Hey, nii-san,” Itachi asked.

As much as it felt weird to do so, Rin answered, “yes?”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

That was easy. She knew what Obito wanted to be. “A police officer.”

But Itachi shook his head. “No, that’s what Obito wants to be. I’m asking what _you_ want to be.”

Rin stared into the rearview mirror at where Mikoto was smirking at her, flabbergasted. _How did he…?_ She must have told him. “Itachi-chan – if you know I’m not Obito, why do you keep calling me ‘nii-san?’”

He shrugged. “Because you’re still my nii-san.”

She smiled. “I want to be a doctor.”

“Why’s that?”

It would’ve been too simple to say that the reason behind that was so she could be like her parents. As a kid she might’ve thought so – but nowadays that wasn’t so true. She thought of all the times Obito had fallen and scraped up his hands and knees when they were kids, and of Kakashi, all closed off in his silent little bubble, reluctant to speak for fear of hurting himself or anyone else. The way Obito’s heart had broken for her over all these years.

“I guess so I can help people,” Rin answered truthfully. “And look out for people like your cousin.”

Seeming happy with the answer, Itachi went back to his book. “Obito needs people looking out for him.”

“Yes. He does.”

オビリン

Kakashi told her over text that he was with Obito sometime before they arrived. He didn’t provide much more detail than that initially, nor did he seem to want to delve into much regarding how he was feeling. It was infuriating, but Rin decided not push it – she reckoned she’d bothered him enough for one day, and she didn’t really want to speak to him. Besides, it gave her time to think.

Her best friend was her soulmate. In fact, she had two soulmates. One of them did not love her. The other one did. How was that supposed to work? She was so confused.

Mikoto had tried to talk it over with her when they’d pull over for their seventh potty break, in between feeding a particularly grizzly Sasuke, but how trustworthy was her advice when she didn’t know the full picture?

“Did you want me to come with you?” she asked. They were pulling into their town know, along the coastal path that looked out to the sea – the _real_ sea, where there were no lights on the horizon, no end.

Rin shook her head. “It’s okay – my… _friend_ , Kakashi, is there with him now.” The word ‘friend’ tasted oh-so bitter on her tongue. She checked the photo of her and Obito which he used as his lockscreen one last time. It was a silly little selfie and she looked objectively terrible in it but…well, it was sweet. Maybe something good could come of this whole disaster, even if it wasn’t quite what she wanted?

She wasn’t as nervous as the first time. Maybe because she was home and Obito’s body felt more like it was made for her. She’d known him for so long and knew each part of him so well, it was impossible for her to not settle into it, even if she was masquerading as a boy – and a nii-san at that.

Mikoto pulled up on her street and shoved the handbrake on, twisting around in her seat. “If you need anything, we’ll just be up the road, okay? Tell Obito to call us.”

Rin nodded and promptly got out of the car.

“Hope you feel better soon, nii-san!” Itachi called, while Sasuke grumbled something unintelligible.

She waved them off, watched them crawl up the street towards Granny’s, and started up the steps to her house. It almost felt like coming home at the end of a school day, if not for her gangly gait. Obito was way too tall!

The sun was almost gone at this point of the day and, while it felt good to stretch her legs out, she was absolutely exhausted. No sleep, hardly enough time to nap in the car with all the games the kids wanted to play – emotionally drained from whatever the fuck what going on between her and her two stupid soulmates. She stopped short at her door.

 _Oh, God._ She really needed to work on her organisational skills because what the _hell_ was she supposed to say to them?

The door opened before she had the chance to plan anything out. She hadn’t even knocked. Kakashi clearly wasn’t very patient – maybe he revelled in taking her by surprise, the asshole.

“Rin,” he greeted casually, only it wasn’t casual at all. Completely the opposite actually – he might have looked put together, but his entire demeanour was forced. He was wearing the scarf she’d knitted for him and wow, he looked handsome. Green suited him. She tried not to let it bother her.

“Where is he?”

“He’s not in,” Kakashi began and she almost walked away right there and then. “But wait, please – I wanted to talk to you before I have to go.”

She snapped. “Oh, now you want to talk to me? After all this, you finally want to talk?”

He ran a hand through his hair, all faux composure. “Do you want to come in?”

“Into my own house?” Rin hissed, incredulous.

“Right, yeah, that was stupid.” He huffed and stepped back from the door. She made no move to follow him in. “I’m sorry,” he said lamely.

“Good.” Something about not being in her own skin made her bold and it made him glower, a break in the mask. “I think I deserve better than a phonecall rejection, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kakashi breathed. “Of course you do. You deserve everything.”

“But I don’t deserve you.”

He looked like he didn’t know what to say at that and it felt really stupid, having this conversation through Obito’s mouth. He gave her strength, but she robbed him of his face. She was starting to cry again.

“No,” Kakashi said quietly. “You don’t deserve this.”

“If you didn’t love me,” she hiccupped. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“It’s not that simple.”

She rubbed at Obito’s eyes and they felt like fire. “You think this is simple? We’re supposed to be soulmates, Kakashi. We’re supposed to love each other. You think it’s easy for me to stand here in someone else’s body and get my heart broken?”

She wondered if this was how Obito felt. Every day, since she’d Switched – heck, even before – when she talked about soulmates and marriage and how he’d felt because he’d been in love with her all this time and it must’ve been killing him.

“Rin,” Kakashi started and when she’d readjusted Obito’s glasses and wiped the last of her tears off his face, she saw that he was frowning. “We barely know each other. How can you possibly be in love with me in the same way that Obito’s in love with you?”

“You’re right,” she laughed, raw, frantic. “We do barely know each other.” She shook her head. “I want to know you, Kakashi, I really do. But when you wear this mask all the time, what’s the point?”

His arm twitched, as though he wanted to reach for her, take her hand. She wondered what the neighbours would think of two boys holding hands in her doorway. She was glad her parents were still at work. But just as quickly as the twitch came, Kakashi killed it, grabbing his elbow to keep it in place – barricading himself just beyond arm’s reach.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I can’t – I can’t give you what you want.”

Rin sucked in a long breath until Obito’s lungs swelled to bursting. Warm air pooled in his chest. She needed all the courage his body could give her. “You know what I hate?” she muttered. “People who lie to themselves.”

With that, she turned and ran away.

オビリン

Obito was on the beach.

Rin found him standing there, in her body, in a grapy purple dusk over tangerine waves and long rolling sands. The lights of Tokyo burned pink and orange across the bay. She stood on the promenade, watching him watch them, before she started down towards him. It was more of a shingle than a beach, and it barely made for a picturesque view, with all the rubbish and dead jellyfish that washed up onto the shore.

The stones and shells crunched underfoot. When she drew closer, she saw that Obito had put sandals on her feet – a brave choice, considering the weather.

“It’s not summer yet, you know,” she chuckled as she approached.

She was met with herself turning back to look at her, eyes wide and hands clasped tight around a free-flowing red woollen scarf. Obito’s birthday present. She’d been in this position before, staring herself down. It was no less startling the second time. Her face looked different to how it normally looked in the mirror; she must’ve had quite asymmetrical features.

“Rin,” Obito said and it was a little weird, hearing herself say her own name, watching her own mouth move. “We Switched.”

“I know.”

“You’re my soulmate.”

“Apparently so.”

“…do I really look like that? Damn, I’m tall.”

She giggled. For all his stupidity and sorrow, he was still Obito. Once it subsided, though, she knew there were more grave matters to deal with. “Why didn’t you tell me about your grandma? And that you’d moved away?”

Obito-as-Rin looked away. She saw her own eyes glistening. He was always so quick to cry. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” he mumbled. “It all happened so fast. And I didn’t think you’d care about me leaving.”

“Of course I’d care!” Rin yelped, bristling. “Obito, you’re my best friend! You leaving is…is – the worst thing that could ever happen to me!”

He flinched and she immediately felt bad for yelling. “The worst thing?”

“Yeah. I don’t want you to go – especially not now.”

“Yeah,” Obito sighed. “It sucks.” He gestured to the beach around them. “I really missed this place.”

A large droplet of sun still lingered on the horizon, pale, golden and glassy. There was a chill in the air and Rin shoved her hands into the pockets of Obito’s jacket. “Do you remember when we used to come down here and collect shells?”

“Of course!”

“And you scraped your shins on the barnacles in the rock pools and cried about it for hours until I kissed it better?”

Obito groaned, shoving his face into the scarf to hide his blush. “Don’t remind me of that!”

Rin laughed again and found that she liked the way his voice sounded coming from her much better when she was happy. “You really liked me, didn’t you?”

The droplet of sun dripped over the edge and disappeared; the sky turned brilliant. A torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung there, suspended on a string of peeking gossamer stars. Obito peeked out from his scarf, quirking an eyebrow. His cheeks were blazing pink. “How did you know?”

She quirked a sad smile. “It’s obvious.”

The gap between them closed like the shifting of an ocean wave and they threw their arms around each other until they were drowning in a hug, two broken-hearted teens trying to patch each other back together. When Rin opened her eyes again, she was buried into Obito’s chest and she could feel the seaside pebbles digging into the soles of her feet, the bottoms of her sandals too thin to block the sensation. Her hair was wild around her ears and her cheeks were wet with tears that weren’t her own.

She pulled back first, reluctant to leave the warmth of his arms encircling her, though she felt she had to. Obito was frowning down at her.

“What about Kakashi?” he asked.

She hesitated. “I…I don’t know. But I don’t want to think about him right now. I’m still so confused.”

“That works with me.”

Rin grinned ruefully and leaned back enough to unthread the scarf from where it had been crushed between them in their embrace. She reached up to loop it around the back of his neck, an act which made him blush from the proximity of their faces and pulled his head down towards her to plant a kiss on his forehead.

“Happy birthday, Obito.”

He hugged her again, squeezing her against his chest. With her head over his shoulder and hoisted her up and spun her around, giggling the entire time. She squawked and whooped, jeering just like they were kids in the blackwash. The ocean waves crashed behind them and, as they spun, she caught a flash of colour on the promenade, beneath where the streetlamps were flickering to life.

Kakashi, in his green scarf, thumbing it gently between his finger and thumb, overlooking the place where two souls collided. Rin couldn’t make out his expression from where she and Obito were standing but she found she didn’t need to in order to understand what he was thinking. Try as she may, she couldn’t wipe the image from her mind – the first time his mask came off.


	3. interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo ~~ i've decided to extend this story a bit by adding this chapter, an 'interlude,' and devising an epilogue!  
> this one's a lil bit sad at the end but i hope the tooth-rotting domestic fluff helps to break up the angst :')

雨水

Gai knew instantly. How could he not? He and Kakashi had been best friends since youth, and then some even before that. Their fathers had been friends and probably their fathers’ fathers – not that they could ask. Bound together by fate as much as circumstance. 

Gai’s father was dead too.

He’d been twelve. Been sent to the same state-funded orphanage in Uonuma that Kakashi had called his home for the seven years before he showed up. They’d been together then for three years – until Kakashi got out. He still visited occasionally when the load from his fancy school would allow. Gai wasn’t smart enough for the places Kakashi could go.

What Kakashi had in brains he had in brawn. He was going to be an athlete. Get a good scholarship to a good college.

They went running together. In the countryside, near the village where they’d both been born, where the old people still used cryptic phrases like ‘grass sprouts, trees bud and ‘first peach blossoms’ to describe the slow passing of seasons.

It was the days of ‘fish emerging from the ice.’ The second week of February.

Kakashi showed up in the early morning at the end of winter. They ate breakfast on the doorstep under a rapidly brightening sky and took off together at a jog. A green scarf Gai had never seen him wear before flew loose behind him as they ran, and as it caught the sun in the mist, he swore it shimmered. A light like the glint of water on dewy grass flashed from under their feet as they went.

They wound along the floor of the hollow commuter town, round the green feet of Mount Myōkō into another deeper and broader valley, over the shoulders of further hills, and down their long limbs. There were no trees nor any visible water: it was a country of grass and short springy turf, silent except for the whisper of the air over the edges of the land, and high lonely cries of birds returning for spring.

As they journeyed the sun mounted and grew hot. Each time they climbed a ridge the breeze seemed to have grown less. When they caught a glimpse of the country westward the distant city seemed to be smoking, as if the fallen rain was steaming up again from cement and root and mould. A shadow now lay round the edge of sight, a dark haze above which the upper sky was like a blue cap, hot and heavy.

About midday they came to a hill whose top was wide and flattened, like a shallow saucer with a green mounded rim. Inside there was no air stirring, and the sky near their heads. It was here that Kakashi stopped.

Gai thought maybe he was needing to rest. He wasn’t as fit as he was now, rarely came into the country as often as he did when he’d first moved away. But when he doubled back, he saw he wasn’t panting from exertion – but for the tears that dribbled down his face.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen him cry. There were times in earlier days when he’d rubbed his back against the pain of losing his father, let him climb into his bed to keep the terrors away. And he knew always that there were some hurts that couldn’t be put into words, not matter how deep they went or how much they ached.

Gai sat for a while nearby whilst his friend choked and sobbed into his scarf, wondering vacantly if it were his father this time or something else. Rin, perhaps? His soulmate? Gai had heard little of her. Kakashi didn’t like to talk about his love life much.

The western rim of the hill revealed them upon an island in a fog, impenetrable from the sun.

Eventually, Kakashi came up beside him and watched for a while the tides of the white sea. They didn’t need to speak. Wordless, Gai rose to his feet, and led the way down the mountain.

春分

For their return to school, the teacher had asked them to prepare a poem on April that reflected how their spring holidays had gone. Asuma had recited a haiku, short and sweet and easy to remember; Anko, an extended soliloquy; Izumo and Kotetsu, a dialogue, for they did everything together.

Kurenai sat at the back of the class, in her allocated seat, awaiting her turn. The welcome assembly had been boring, as usual, but this she enjoyed. It was nice to spend some time on the equinox lamenting the end of spring before the hell that was their penultimate year of high school began. If she was lucky, she’d graduate with enough clout to get into Todai. Most students aspired to go there and, to be fair, most of them got in.

There were big names here – from Sarutobi to Akimichi to Hyūga – and their alumni went on to do big things. Kurenai was lucky in more ways that one: lucky for her brains, her half-scholarship, and her charming soulmate.

Asuma tossed a wink over his shoulder from the front of the class and she stifled a smirk.

“Very good, Gekkō,” the teacher remarked at the ode he’d presented to his girlfriend, Yūgao, who sat in the seat beside him. They’d Switched on her birthday last year in November which was, coincidentally, the day after his. “Miss Yūhi? Are you ready?”

Kurenai nodded and stood.

“Here is a poem, _Song of Second April_ by American playwright Edna St. Vincent Millay,” she said, and cleared her throat to recite in English. “April this year, not otherwise

Than April of a year ago,

Is full of whispers, full of sighs,

Of dazzling mud and dingy snow;

Hepaticas that pleased you so

Are here again, and butterflies.

There rings a hammering all day,

And shingles lie about the doors;

In orchards near and far away

The grey wood-pecker taps and bores;

The men are merry at their chores,

And the children earnest at their play.

The larger streams run full and deep,

Noisy and swift the small brooks run

Among the mullein stalks the sheep

Go up the hillside in the sun,

Pensively – only you are gone,

You that alone I cared to keep.”

She sat back to a smattering of applause. English wasn’t necessarily her strong suit, but she was a good enough student to get most of the words right. A recollection of last year’s April – before she and Asuma had officially gotten together. They’d been something of an item then, though, something scandalous. It was their second April together.

Her father hadn’t liked him until he knew they were Soulmates.

“Very well done, Miss Yūhi,” her sensei said. “Now, uh, next – Mr Hatake?”

Kakashi sat directly in front of her. He was a quiet boy, mostly kept to himself and his books, and he always brought in immaculate bento boxes. Kurenai was one of the few people in their class who knew his mum hadn’t made it for him. It was something they had in common. If only she’d Switched with someone who could make his own lunch like that. Asuma, at seventeen years of age, still petitioned Kurenai to make it for him in exchange for a kiss.

“Right,” Kakashi said. “Strangely enough, I also prepared something by Edna St. Vincent Millay.”

Kurenai huffed. _Had he really?_ No – he must’ve just copied her idea. Even though she’d never told him about it. He was definitely the type to not do his homework and mooch off someone else to still get a good grade.

“It’s a little bit shorter,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed. “I hope that’s alright. It’s called _Spring:_

To what purpose, April, do you return again?

Beauty is not enough.

You can no longer quiet me with the redness

Of little leaves opening stickily.

I know what I know.

The sun is hot on my neck as I observe

The spikes of the crocus.

The smell of the earth is good.

It is apparent that there is no death.

But what does that signify?

Not only under the ground are the brains of men

Eaten by maggots.”

He read it with perfect pronunciation, the bastard. He was the best in the class at literature, after all. The others probably didn’t know what he was talking about – but Kurenai had done enough research to know. She had a woman’s heart, and she knew a man’s undoing when she saw it.

“Life in itself

Is nothing.

An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.

It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,

April

Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.”

穀雨

Tenzō was still relatively new to the dojo. He’d started attending one month ago, when he’d started high school. They were still trying to suss him out.

Until the sensei figured out what kyū rank he was, he had to wear the white belt. It wasn’t a big deal – his old dojo hadn’t cared much about colours, so he didn’t mind. He knew where he stood.

They were going through a series of kata in pairs and he was with another young teen. They took turns throwing each other to the floor in an endless push-and-pull of resistance and compliancy. The way of judo was funny like that. Gentle and dynamic.

The sensei clapped for them to take a break. Find someone to spar with. Tenzō’s partner ran off to someone else. He looked around for an opponent and – yes, the shodan. A white-haired black belt, about four years his senior, who people tended to leave alone. They must’ve been too frightened to lose.

“Hatake-san,” Tenzō greeted. He held his palm up in an invitation.

Kakashi glanced at him and quirked an eyebrow. “You want to spar with me?”

Tenzō nodded. “You’re the best one here, aren’t you?”

“Apart from the sensei.”

“Then I can learn a lot from you.”

Judo wasn’t always about being the best. It was more about learning from your opponent. Tenzō had seen Kakashi fight, namely against the sensei, but he knew it wasn’t the same as experiencing it for himself.

“ _Sute geiko?_ ” the elder asked.

Tenzō shook his head. “No, thanks. A proper spar.”

Kakashi’s eyebrow twitched again, but he didn’t say anything. They bowed to each other, as was customary. Then, they grabbed each other’s uwagi and started tussling. Tenzō was at a significant weight and height disadvantage, for which Kakashi compensated by going a little bit easier – his mistake.

He immediately pulled him into sweeping hip throw, sweeping his legs out from under him with all the strength he could muster.

They went down cleanly, Kakashi on his back, Tenzō’s shoulder in his gut.

“I said,” the youngster griped. “A _proper_ spar, Hatake-san.”

Kakashi glared at him. “Please,” he said after a second. “Call me Kakashi.”

They got back up and continued.

It was a battle of attrition, but Tenzō wasn’t in it for the fight. He was in it because this was how you got to know someone, really _know_ them – the body betrayed more than words. Kakashi’s technique was superb; he fell like a natural, literally rolled with the punches. He was like lightning, quick to change, with great variety and speed, and anger and sadness. Something beneath the surface that shouldn’t have been there.

In a combat situation, you must’ve let your mind be polluted by emotions like fear and anger. The mind should be clear. Tenzō could tell Kakashi’s mind was in turmoil, even though they’d never properly met beyond his first introduction to the dojo.

They fought in a series of reversals and Kakashi had the upper hand. The conflict inside was the only thing keeping Tenzō on his feet. Where Kakashi was a storm, Tenzō became a weed making its way through the cracks. Unassertive, adjustable, finding a way around and through.

_Empty your mind. Be formless. Shapeless, like water._

_If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot._

It ended too quickly, with them both on the floor, sweating and writhing. Tenzō was on top, momentarily victorious.

And then Kakashi flipped them into an illegal cross lock with such force that Tenzō forgot to breathe. It felt like his arm was being pulled out of his socket, Kakashi’s hand at his throat. The feeling in his eyes was palpable: rage and fear and such confusion.

Tenzō tapped out with a sigh.

Kakashi stumbled back. “I’m – I’m sorry,” he stammered.

“Wow,” Tenzō breathed, sitting up. He worked his shoulder joint. Not dislocated. “You’re really good.”

They’d drawn a small crowd. Kakashi was staring at him. He looked dishevelled, a look that almost didn’t suit him, his uwagi hanging open and revealing bare chest. “What? Didn’t I hurt you?”

“Well, yeah,” Tenzō replied, as though it were obvious. He didn’t imagine he looked any better. “But I learned a lot. Thank you, Hatake-san.”

“Kakashi. Please.”

“Okay, Kakashi-senpai.” He shuffled only his knees then stood up. Extended a hand to his elder and then, after he’d taken it, a bow. The class was dispersing. “Same time next week?”

Kakashi looked at him dumbly. “Yeah? Um…”

“Tenzō. My name’s Tenzō.”

“Okay.” Kakashi bowed then. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“I could tell.”

On his way out, the sensei discreetly passed Tenzō a brown belt.

小満

“Hello?”

“Hello! Is this Kushina Uzumaki?”

“Yes, speaking?”

“Kushina, hi! It’s Mikoto!”

Kushina almost dropped her soda at the sound of her friend’s voice on the other line. How long had it been since they’d last talked? It must’ve been some months, maybe even years.

“Oh, Mikoto!” she practically squealed. “Hi! How have you been? It’s been so long! I don’t think we’ve spoken since…”

“Since little Naruto-chan was born?”

Wow, that was almost three years ago now. He was out on the balcony enjoying the summer heat with his father while Kushina fixed them dinner. She could hear them both giggling. Minato popped his head in through the window. There was soil in his hair – they must’ve been gardening.

“Who is it, honey?”

“An old friend of mine from high school!” she called back over her shoulder. Back to the receiver, “I can’t believe we haven’t spoken since then!”

Mikoto must’ve heard some of the guilt seeping into her tone since she tittered and said, “It’s alright. Being a full-time mother is very demanding and time really flies. How is he?”

“He’s doing great! He’s really taken to painting – thank you so much for the colouring set you sent for Christmas. He loves it! And how are Itachi-chan and Sasuke-chan?”

“They’re both good! Itachi-chan just started school and Sasuke-chan likes it when he reads him to sleep in the evening. He adores his big brother.”

The thought made Kushina’s heart swell. Almost made her wish she could give Naruto a younger sibling or two…she shook her head. He already had Kakashi which was basically the same thing. It was a shame he’d been too busy with schoolwork to pop over for tea this term.

“Thank you so much for the birthday present, by the way,” Mikoto continued and Kushina remembered the card she’d sent, along with a box of wine. That’s right, it was June already. They never once forgot each other’s birthdays, not since Kushina had moved away from their hometown. “I can’t wait to crack it open. These summer holidays will be the death of me with Fugaku working overtime at the station.”

“Ah, it must be so hard looking after two kids all day.”

“Well, actually, it’s _three_ now.”

Kushina choked on her soda. “ _Three!_ You didn’t tell me you were pregnant!”

Mikoto infectious laugher rattled down the line. “I wasn’t pregnant! My nephew has moved in with us since my mum passed away.”

“Oh, Mikoto, I’m so sorry.” She remembered the woman fondly, and Mikoto’s sister. “What was his name again? Obito?”

“That’s right. He’d be around the same age as Minato’s Kakashi, I think.”

“It must’ve been quite difficult for him to move out of his home as a teenager.”

“It was, but he’s lightened up a lot since his Switch. It was with a girl from the same village as him, so they were already friends. They talk on the phone every day!”

“Oh, that’s lovely!” It brought back memories of her own Switch, to her and Minato sending love letters across the country and then emails and attending university together…but she had to frown. “Kakashi’s Switched as well, but I haven’t heard anything from him about his soulmate since last year.”

Mikoto hummed thoughtfully in that way she always did when she was trying to be placating. “I’m sure it’s fine. You know how fickle teenagers can be!”

Kushina had to laugh at that. Mikoto had nearly rejected her soulmate on the premise that he was from the same village as her father – they even shared the same surname!

“You and Fugaku turned out just fine though,” she mused.

“Exactly, so I’m sure Kakashi will be fine. You know, I was actually wondering – next month, for Sasuke-chan’s birthday, I was thinking of taking him to Tokyo’s Disney Resort if you wanted to bring Naru-chan?”

Kushina almost screamed. “Absolutely!” The cute photo opportunities! Disneyland! And she’d finally get to meet Mikoto’s youngest son. “I can’t wait!”

They stayed up all night morning planning.

大暑

Fantasyland was undoubtedly the best part of Tokyo Disneyland. Itachi knew so because it was Sasuke’s favourite. His new friend, Naruto, preferred Toontown, but they’d already been to Goofy’s Paint ‘n’ Play House, where he’d scrawled all over Sasuke’s face. Even though they were all holding hands – from Obito, to Itachi to Sasuke to Naruto – his mum kept him on a leash from behind. Apparently he was prone to wandering off.

“Where do you want to go next, Sasuke?”

They’d just gotten off the _it’s a small world ride_ and he was humming the tune vivaciously.

“Haunted House!” Naruto cried, pointing towards a particularly eerie Gothic mansion.

Sasuke tightened his grip on Itachi’s hand. “Hey, that looks scary,” he said uneasily.

But Naruto was pulling him forward. “Come _on_. It looks like fun! Scaredy cat.”

“Hey, Naru-chan!” Kushina yelled from behind, where she was walking and gossiping with Mum. “Quit pulling!”

Itachi leaned down to whisper in his brother’s ear. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Sasuke turned to him, red-faced and scandalised. The matching whiskers Naruto had given him went well with his black cat ears. “No, I want to! I’m not a scaredy cat.”

Itachi could feel his other hand grow clammy with Obito’s sweat. He’d been in a foul mood all day because his girlfriend was too busy studying to join them. _Studying_ , he’d scoffed. _During the summer holidays? Who does that!_ He didn’t seem to like Tokyo that much.

“My husband has a godson about your age,” Kushina said to him. “Too bad he couldn’t come today. I reckon you two would’ve gotten along really well. You’ll be alright babysitting the kids for this ride while Mikoto and I catch up? We’ll meet you at the other end!”

They had a queue-jump ticket. Even though there weren’t any height restrictions, Naruto and Sasuke still had to sit on his and Obito’s laps as they were strapped in.

“Hmph,” Naruto exclaimed, twisting around to poke Sasuke’s cheek. “My nii-san is _way_ cooler than yours. He isn’t scared of Haunted Houses!”

“Oi, brat,” Obito hissed. “I ain’t scared!”

“Yeah, you are!” the toddler in his lap retorted. “I can feel you shaking!”

“Only because you’re moving so much! Sit still!”

“Itachi-nii-san is the _best_ nii-san,” Sasuke suddenly interjected indignantly, and Itachi tried hard to stifle his grin. “Obito nii’s my cousin, not my nii-san.”

“No fair,” Naruto wailed, gripping Obito’s t-shirt with grubby hands. “You get two! I only have one!”

Sasuke pondered this for a moment. “You can have Obito-nii. But only for the day!”

Naruto, seemingly pleased with the outcome, settled down as the carts started moving down the track. It was slow-moving enough that they could take everything in.

A creepy study with a book on the desk that turned its pages all by itself and white marble busts that blinked. A piano covered with cobwebs playing a ghostly refrain. A green crystal ball, inside which was a talking head, and a crow on the mantlepiece.

Sasuke pressed his face into Itachi’s jacket, thumb in his mouth, watching with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry,” he crooned. “Your big brother will protect you no matter what.”

Naruto, on the other hand, started giggling hysterically at the phantom faces which appeared in the window to their right as they trailed past, sticking his tongue out at them almost in defiance. Itachi felt Obito jump next to him as one popped up suddenly with a shriek.

Naruto burst out laughing. “Scaredy cat!”

“Am not!” Obito squealed, but even Itachi cracked a smile at how wonky his glasses were now sat on his face. Obito could be so silly sometimes.

Sasuke was giggling alongside Naruto when they finally reached the end and Mum whisked him up into her arms.

“Was that fun, Sasuke-chan?” she asked. “Did your big brother take good care of you? Ah, you’re so brave!”

“What a brat,” Obito grumbled as he handed a grizzling Naruto over to his mum. Itachi knew he didn’t mean it. He was smiling.

“Cake! Cake! Cake!” the rambunctious child was chanting.

Kushina fixed him up onto her hip. “I think that’s a good idea, ya know! What do you think, Sasuke-chan? Want to get some birthday cake?”

He was still sucking his thumb, so all he could do was nod. With their mums carrying them like that, Itachi’s hand felt oddly empty. He reached up and grabbed Obito’s.

“Huh?” he hummed, startled. “You want to hold my hand?”

“Come on, nii-san! I want birthday cake too!”

He could see Obito’s eyes getting wet behind his glasses. “Oh – okay. You’re awfully cute, Itachi-chan.”

Itachi grinned up at him and led the way after the others.

処暑

It was September. The time of the harvest.

Kakashi’s father used to start preparing the soil in April, when the sakura trees were in full-bloom. He’d drain the water from the fields and brush a stick over the rice to dry them before picking. He always used to hand pick, with his sickle, and dry out the bundles under the sun. No need for machinery.

It wasn’t like that anymore.

September was too wet now.

Kakashi waded through the rice paddies without an umbrella. His farmhouse was in the distance, untouched since he was five. He’d inherit it soon and then maybe sell it to the people who owned the fields here. Let them turn it into a factory where they could mass-produce what his father worked hard to grow.

Behind him, the dogs splashed and played in the pools. Few of them remembered this place. Maybe Pakkun, who was old now, but still trudged on. He stayed close at Kakashi’s heels, the water up to his chest.

He remembered him making mochi for the New Year. The rice was soaked for two days, then steamed until it went soft. Sakumo and Dai would take turns pounding the dough with a mallet while he and Gai watched and waited to stuff it with red bean paste, which they usually got all over their fingers. The dogs would lick their hands clean and it tickled so much that they laughed.

He’d been _happy_. All had been good.

“A simple act of kindness the size of a rice grain can weigh as heavy as a mountain,” his father used to say.

Rin hadn’t messaged in weeks. Kakashi suspected she’d given up. She’d told him, after her Switch with Obito, that she would wait. She wouldn’t go on a date with him until everything was ‘sorted out.’ As if it could be. He must’ve been cursed.

_My soulmate has another. I am not the one she needs. She is not the one I want._

_He –_

Kakashi stopped outside his house.

He lingered for a while, then out of his backpack took two incense sticks, a teapot and cup, and a bag of mochi. There was no altar, so he lay them on the doorstep and knelt down in the mud. Lit the wet incense, poured a cup of cold, diluted tea, prayed. The rain from the gutter above splashed into his hair and ran down his face. Some sort of cleansing ritual. The dogs came to sit beside him.

“Hello, Dad. It’s me, Kakashi. I’m sorry I haven’t visited until now. School has been busy. I get good grades and Minato-nii takes good care of me. I haven’t seen much of him this year. He’s married now. He has a wife and son. I don’t want to intrude.”

Guruko sneezed. “I have Soulmate,” Kakashi continued. “She’s nice, but I don’t think we’re compatible. I don’t know if I could love her. I think there’s something wrong with me.”'

He paused for a few moments, during which he had to push Bull’s snout away from the mochi to stop him from eating it and Pakkun started whining.

“I turn seventeen next week. I’m almost all grown up. I’m not sure what I’m going to do after I graduate but…I miss you. I can’t believe how long it’s been. I wish you could be here. I used to be angry at you but now I think I understand. You must’ve loved Mum a lot. I’m sorry I never realised before.”

The mud on his trousers had seeped through. His feet were starting to go numb. He unclasped his hands and laid one palm flat on the drenched wood.

“Goodbye for now, Dad. I’ll see you soon.” 


End file.
